


On broken wings I'm falling

by MyFandomCausesHanaji



Series: the wars we wage [2]
Category: Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types, Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Arguing, Comfort, Developing Relationship, Drama, Ed is a sunshine, Emotional Hurt, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Sex, Eventual Romance, Feelings, Feels, First Kiss, First Time, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Friends to Lovers, Getting Together, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Mutual Pining, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Romance, Self-Doubt, Time Travel, just a mention (read part 1)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-24
Updated: 2017-06-08
Packaged: 2018-11-03 08:02:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 24,660
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10963077
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MyFandomCausesHanaji/pseuds/MyFandomCausesHanaji
Summary: He will fail them all: the people of this country, his friends, he will fail Ed and get himself killed, leaving the young man to fix this for him, to sacrifice his own life for Roy’s failure.``````DIRECT SEQUEL TO PART 1





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is the **direct sequel** to the part 1 of the series - _Beneath the stains of time_. 
> 
> The title is borrowed from _Alter Bridge - Broken Wings_ , because I'm a sucker for a cheap drama xD
> 
> If not in the direct speech: _Edward_ =future!Ed; _Ed_ =Ed from the current timeline.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "It is good to see you, Edward."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is betaed by **Himeneka**. Thank you so much! =)

Roy doesn’t sleep this night. Who could, after what happened? 

And he just can’t, not now. Because he’d already had enough demons tiring him at nights before this evening, and now he is just too scared that as soon as he closes his eyes he will see that empty amber stare. 

Because of course at night it’s the worst. In the night, without daylight to lighten up the world around him along with his thoughts, it is too easy for his inner demons to start crawling their way out of the deep darkness of his subconscious, flooding him with long forgotten memories, strangling him with old fears and regrets, forcing him to fight for every breath - harsh and shallow in his tightened chest. 

As he starts a fire in the fireplace and sits at his table in the living room, waiting for the morning when he will have to leave the house to meet Ed at the station as he’s promised, he is trying to ignore the visions his brain brings up to him from the darkest corners of his mind, trying to ignore the  feeling of dread those memories bring him, trying to ignore the mild shaking of his fingers holding crumpled papers he obtained from his guest from the future, and his own too shallow breaths. And he resorts to the only thing which has proved itself useful in moments like that - he tries to drown the horrific things floating on the surface of his conscience with alcohol.  

The light from the fireplace is casting sparks at the glass filled with amber liquid near his left hand, and the color reminds him of the eyes of the person who was just recently standing right in this room. 

The eyes, he wishes to forget but is afraid he will.

He focuses his attention on the document in front of him, taking in ripped corners, some of them bearing the remains of dirt, some - of what seems to be  dried blood. And Roy thinks that right now he is holding in his hands the lives of all the people who suffered in the war he was told of, the lives of his friends, the life of Ed and his very own. And he feels the weight of these lives settling down on his shoulders and everything else fades before the enormity of this burden. 

He looks through the notes, taken in the familiar handwriting, and expects to be met if not with the detailed description of the events that had led to  _ this _ , but at least with a list of the actions he should undertake _.  _

But instead the sheets are covered in what seems to be a completely random collection of words and snippy phrases, dates and alchemical symbols all made with unsteady handwriting, which looks even worse than the one Roy is used to see in the reports provided by the blond alchemist, and he wonders if Edward’s mind was more damaged than he suspected. 

The thought hurts.

_ Sometimes I feel that I am losing my mind, Roy. _

The papers in his hands burn his skin, but he forces himself to keep reading, trying to make sense of the mess of words, and he hopes the notes hold no information on the array Edward used to get here - no one should be able to have such knowledge, not with such a price for using it, especially Ed - he can’t risk him even thinking of ever creating an alchemy like that.

Two elements stand out in a mess of symbols and words: the list of names which, as Roy guesses, must be the names of the State Alchemists working for Drachma, and one date that is repeated several times on the different pages. Just the date and the name, crossed here, circled there: ‘15.7.1931 Roy’.

_...I couldn’t even bury you… _

He pushes the pages away and forces himself not to think about this. He drinks his whiskey in one large gulp and feels his eyes water from the burning sensation in his throat. 

The numbers cause disquiet and Roy can’t tell if his head is reeling from the lack of sleep combined with the two shots of whiskey he’s already had this night, or from the shock of looking at the date of his own death. And the thought that there are only about fourteen years separating him from that day, unless he manages to change something, is eerie. 

He puts his elbows on the desk surface and drops his face on his hands. He can’t sleep tonight, but he can’t force himself to keep reading these notes now either. There is no point in further exhausting his already tired mind with it now, he has to retain some energy for the conversation he will have to hold with Ed about this unpleasant discovery. 

He puts the papers inside his desk, sealing the lock with alchemy and heads to the kitchen to make himself some coffee. It’s not that long till dawn now anyway.

When the streetlights outside the windows flicker out and the first shallow beams of the rising sun start carving away night’s shadows, Roy rises to his feet from the kitchen table, leaving empty coffee mugs on the counter, and exits the house.

**~~~**

Ed is pissed.

That feeling is not unusual for him, and the reason behind his current state of mind is nothing really new ( _ fucking Bastard, it has always been him, hasn’t it? Who else could drive Ed crazy that effectively?!), _ though the circumstances which led to Ed currently sitting on the hard bench of the train heading to Central City several hours earlier than he initially intended to, are different from usual, to say the least.

The conversation Ed had with  said Bastard last night left an unpleasant aftertaste - Ed is worried. 

Being worried also isn’t anything new for Ed. Yet, this time the usual worry for the welfare of the people he cares about one way or another is complemented with the feeling of unease at being faced with something he had never expected he could witness in his entire life - a crying Mustang. 

The Bastard isn’t one to cry. He just isn’t the type, period.

Sooner cows will fly and all oceans dry out, than Mustang shed a single tear. Colonel (‘ _ Brigadier General now’,  _ Ed corrects himself, what a mouthful though..) is a perfect example of a promising politician - there has yet to be a single time when Mustang has shown a real emotion on that covered with layers of well chosen masks face. This is the most annoying part of the man from Ed’s perspective, damn his composed handsome face, fucking Bastard! And Ed had been almost certain that the moment the General-Bastard will drop all his act and demonstrate any emotion close enough to be considered sincere in contrast to his usual well calculated  _ ‘natural’  _ reactions, will be the announcement of the apocalypse. 

And just several hours ago Ed, to his own horror, witnessed what with all honesty one can call a very convincing emotional breakdown, with tears and shit, executed by said Bastard with all the sincerity Ed hadn’t in a world expected from him.

They are all doomed now.

Yet, Ed can’t hear any knells and the world hasn’t ended for some reason ( _ yet) _ , and he now has to deal with his racing emotions concerning this sudden development (that the Bastard  _ can _ cry, not that this hasn’t caused the world to end, that is).

Hearing Mustang in such a state was even more unnerving than unexpected. The man has always been somewhat of a constant in Ed’s unstable world, though he would never admit it out loud. He secretly admires Mustang’s determination and his unexplainable ability to stay productive while pulling an entirely unhealthy amount of slacking and procrastinating. Ed deeply believes that the man is the best thing that could happen to this country once he’ll manage to finally become a Fuhrer. Of course, no amount of physical and mental torture can make Ed actually say this to the Bastard himself.

And the thought of what could  _ possibly _ happen to make Mustang lose all the masks he always presents to the world, and show the man he is underneath - living, breathing and vulnerable just as the rest of them - is clenching Ed’s chest in a tight fist that is shortening his breaths, and no matter how deep Ed tries to breath, it doesn’t budge.

He is tired, the Bastard said. Tired! Ed knows how this feels - Ed has been tired since the day his mother died thirteen years ago, it is the constant presence on the edge of his psyche, filling his every move and breath. It has never faded, never went away, even when he got his brother’s body back, even when he left the military and started, as he thinks, living for himself - travelling to new places, meeting new people, reading new books. It has never left him, this feeling of weariness, of too much responsibility and knowledge laying heavy on his shoulders, too much of a burden for a seventeen years old to carry, and yet this is how he has been living _ for years _ , and it seems so normal for him, that the mere thought that most people have the privilege of still being kids at his age seems like an alien concept.

Ed is not a child, has hardly ever been, but now, when he is almost eighteen, he is finally a bit less easily agitated than he was when he still served in the military - perhaps that is just the lack of Roy Mustang and his constant mockery doing the trick - but now Ed is at least able to admit that Mustang’s shaking voice and muffled sobs made him genuinely worried about the man. Because if he wasn’t lying saying that no one had been hurt, then it must have been something about the man himself, and no matter how annoying the Bastard is, Ed still admires him and respects him a great deal. 

There are even days when Ed lets his carefully hidden crush for the man emerge from the thick layers of lies he tells himself, and this always makes his cheeks blush and his stomach tremble with excitement and unease, thence of course he doesn’t like hearing the man hurting like that.

So as a result, here Ed is, taking the night train instead of the morning one, which would’ve let him spend the night in the bed, sleeping peacefully, just because he is worried about the stupid Bastard. 

And he probably could’ve slept on a train, as he has never had problems with that before, but he has been edgy since that conversation, his tension and nerves still haven’t worn off, and Ed can barely stay in his compartment, constantly rushing up to his feet and making rounds to the head of the train and back, annoying other passengers. 

Oh, they are going to have a talk. Ed will make sure Mustang will not be able to make his way out of it with bullshit like “I am tired”. The Bastard sure owes Ed some answers.

Lost in his thoughts and plans of how he is going to pull information out of Mustang, Ed barely notices when the train starts slowing down reaching his destination at the Central City’s station. 

Ed snaps out of his thoughts, taking in his surroundings, and rushes to his compartment before other passengers start filling the aisles preparing to get off the train. He sits down on the bench near the window and watches the people on the station trying not to be too obvious for himself that he is in fact looking for a familiar face in the crowd. 

Having no luck in this, Ed feels that his mood is gradually going from “moderately pissed and worried” to “highly irritated”. Slowly boiling, Ed waits some time for the flow of people to let up, and then rises to his feet, grabs two of his three suitcases first, leaving the third one for the second round, and starts making his way to the exit.

Only to bump into the very reason for his inner turmoil coming inside the train. 

“You!”

**~~~**

Despite the early hour Central station is filled with people. 

Ed’s train is already coming to a stop at the platform when Roy arrives there. He lowers himself on the bench nearby, too exhausted to stand upright, and watches the flow of passengers exiting the train. Some immediately leave the station, some rush to their families and loved ones awaiting them. Laughs and joyful cries are filling the air and Roy thinks that he has never had time to just sit and observe. Too focused on his goal, on his dream of Fuhrership, it seems like almost everything he does is one way or another connected to it. 

It was not the whole truth, of course, when he told Ed that he was tired last night. But it was not a lie either. He has been rushing through the ranks ever since he enlisted in the military: the youngest State Alchemist (before Ed came into the picture), the Hero of Ishval at the age of twenty three, planning his own coup at thirty, being promoted to Brigadier General at thirty one - his whole life has been dedicated to his ultimate goal. He intends to make this country better, and his people are relying on him. His life hasn’t been his own since the day he stood in the burning heat of the Ishval desert looking at the men in charge and thinking at that moment that he should become the one who will change this country to the better.

And now just several sheets of worn paper lying inside the table in his house, basically being silent indication of the future ultimate fail of all his plans and desires for this country, have planted doubts in his mind. He will fail them all: the people of this country, his friends, he will fail Ed and get himself killed, leaving the young man to fix this for him, sacrificing his own life for Roy’s failure. Because he is sure that it will be  _ his  _ failure, and no one else’s. In that future he had a glimpse at, he is  _ (was? will be?) _ the Fuhrer of Amestris, which means he will be personally responsible for whatever happen in this country and for every life taken in that war Edward told him about.

Roy shakes his head, trying to brush the dark  _ (impossible, heavy, hurting)  _ thoughts away for now and looks up. The flow of passengers getting off the train has almost worn off, but there is no trace of Ed among them. Roy looks over people’s heads at the train and a glimpse of golden blond head in one of the windows catches his attention. He rises to his feet and heads to this train car. 

“You!” Ed says immediately with that familiar tone of accusation as if Roy is personally responsible for all of Ed’s problems. 

Roy is certain that Ed would’ve poked his metal finger into Roy’s chest if only both of his hands weren’t occupied with suitcases. Instead Ed just stares intensely at Roy, and he notices with light surprise, that the young man apparently finally hit his growth spurt, and now the tip of his head is around Roy’s eye level, which is not very bad considering how short the blond was the last time Roy saw him. And the man feels the warm feeling start blooming itself in the depth of his chest - it feels genuinely good to see Ed after almost two years.  And despite the unpleasant thoughts still lingering in his mind, Roy cocks his head slightly to one side and tilts the corners of his mouth in a smile.  

“Me, indeed. Were you expecting someone else, Edward?” Roy examines Ed’s face, taking in vague traces of sleepless night, but even with the faint shadows under his eyes Ed looks vigorous and even more beautiful than Roy remembers him - immense contrast to the man Roy met yesterday, and the wave of relief washes over him and he lets out a breath he didn’t suspect he had been holding, as if he had feared to see the shadow of the broken man he met last night in the eyes of the one standing now in front of him. 

“What are you doing here?” Ed scowls and Roy can’t keep himself from drinking in greedily every little details on this face he’s missed so much.

“Why, Edward, weren’t you the one who threatened me with violence if I didn’t appear on the station to meet you from the train?” Roy’s smile widens, and despite the grumpy look on Ed’s face, he has to fight the urge to seize the blond in a tight hug. 

“Exactly! The station, Bastard! The fuck are you doing  _ on the train _ ?

“I saw you in the window, so I figured perhaps you needed help with your luggage,” still smiling, Roy gestures to the items in Ed’s hands.

“Tch. Was just waiting for everyone to leave,” Ed finally lowers his gaze and starts moving toward the exit. Brushing past Mustang, he adds: “There is one more suitcase in the second compartment”. 

“I’ll get it. It is good to see you, Edward,” Roy says to the blond’s back.

Ed stops for a moment and glances at Roy above his shoulder.

“Yeah, whatever,” and having said that the blond gets off the train.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!  
> I really appreciate every comment, please don't hesitate to let me know what you think =)


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I apologise for making you worry, Edward. But like I said, and you can believe me, no one you know has died. I am sorry if I made you think otherwise.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is betaed by **Himeneka**. Many thanks for fishing out my grammar mistakes and patiently explaining them to me!

“Ok, Mustang, start talking,” they are in Mustang’s car, and Ed speaks as soon as he closes the door after himself.

“I don’t know what you mean, Edward,” the man answers as he starts driving, taking good care of not looking at Ed. But, Ed thinks, it’s probably for the better - considering the Bastard’s driving skills he better keep his attention to the road. But like hell is Ed going to wait until they arrive to the hotel to discuss the issue, he knows Mustang too well by now - he either manages to pull some information from the man here and now, when he is still obviously tired from his last night’s breakdown, or there could be no other chance later. 

“You know exactly what I mean, Mustang! I didn’t spend a sleepless night on the train just to let you feed me with your bullshit.”

“Why, Edward, and I thought you’d always been a champion in sleeping in the most uncomfortable places, let alone trains,” his face is even more composed than usual, which should not be physically possible, but here it is - there is most definitely something bothering the man, and he tries so hard to not let it  show on his face, that it becomes obvious.

“Fucking show me the person who would be able to sleep peacefully after hearing you weeping on the phone. This shit is fucking unnerving.” 

“Were you worried about me, Edward?” Mustang casts a glance on Edward and the car makes visible wobble to the side before the General returns his attention back to the road, and Ed grabs the panel in front of him in a tight grip - this damn Bastard is going to kill him one day.

“Fuck you, Mustang! I thought someone fucking died! And keep your eyes on the road - you are going to kill us both with your driving!”

Mustang goes rigid, and visibly tightens his grip on the steering wheel. Ed lets himself be distracted for a moment by looking at these hands in the white gloves with red arrays on them - he is sure the man has never worn them before on the everyday basis, using instead the simple white military gloves, and putting on the ignition ones only at the moments of apparent danger, and Ed wonders if this changed after the Promised Day or if this might be somehow connected with the reason for his emotional breakdown last night. In any case such obvious paranoia coming from the man who has always seemed to be in control of everything in his life makes Ed frown in confusion and disquiet.

The sound of Mustang’s voice pulls Ed from his thoughts and he looks up at the man. His next words are cold and formal and Ed is struggling to catch at least a trace of any emotion on this motionless face.

“I apologise for making you worry, Edward. But like I said, and you can believe me, no one you know has died. I am sorry if I made you think otherwise.” 

“Damn, that is too many apologies in one sentence,” Ed answers immediately. The General is acting weird. It is nothing new for him to be all act and shit, but right now he is visibly hiding something important enough to shake him to his very core, and even though they are not really friends or close enough to share something personal, Ed likes to think that he has earned his trust long time ago, to be told at least about major disasters. 

But before he can start screaming his way through the Bastard’s masks, Ed realises there was something odd in the way Mustang built his previous statement.

“Wait, the fuck is that supposed to mean - no one  _ I _ know?”

Mustang opens his mouth as if to answer, but closes it shortly and frowns. Seeing him at a loss for words, whatever the reason, is perhaps the second on Ed’s list of “Things The Bastard is not capable of”. Ed feels his brows climb up to his forehead only to almost instantly fall down in a frown matching the General’s.

“Shit, Mustang, anyone  _ you  _ knew then?” Ed asks in a serious voice trying not to let the annoyance from the previous part of their conversation crawl its way in his tone.

“I… No, it’s not like that, Edward,” Mustangs answers fast and Ed chooses to believe him for now. But after getting the confirmation that at least no one is dead, he feels the irritation rising up in him again - he is already getting tired of this game, if the Bastard doesn't want to tell him what happened, he probably shouldn’t have fucking sobbed for Ed to hear in the first place!

“Like what then? Dammit, Mustang, spit it out already! You don’t start fucking crying for me to hear just to pretend afterwards that everything is ok! You can’t take it back, I was there, all right! Now you are either telling me or not telling anyone and you can mope alone all your fucking life and watch me if I’m gonna care!”

He will, of course, but hell if he is going to let the Bastard know that. And Ed knows Mustang should realise he is right: he can’t indeed take it back. He let Ed behind the surface of his masks, he let him see what was underneath the covers, he let him into what probably was the most vulnerable state Ed has ever thought he can actually see him in. Mustang can’t just brush Ed off now and pretend this hasn’t happened. 

And Ed can’t believe they are having this conversation. Hasn’t it always been him who, having been hurt, never wanted to make others worry, insisting that he was fine, though he so obviously was not? Could it be the same now with Mustang or was it perhaps some classified military information which Mustang couldn’t share with outsiders? But again, if that was the case, Ed is sure the man would tell him so right away. And this leaves him with the disturbing thought that perhaps Mustang doesn’t want to tell Ed what happened because he what? Doesn’t want to make Ed worry? Nah, that’s bullshit, why would he...

“Let’s get you to your hotel first. Leave your things there and then I’ll drive us to my place. We can talk there.”

“What’s so bad about now? Can’t we talk  _ now _ ? Why everything is always so complicated with you?!”

“Nothing is complicated with me! It is my story to tell, Edward, thus I am the one to decide when and where I want to have this conversation.” The outburst is sudden for both of them judging by the surprised expression Ed notices on Mustang’s face before it disappears.

“Holy shit, Mustang, can you fucking chill, no need to fucking scream! Fine! But you are helping me with my stuff to my room.” The Bastard owes him that much for playing on his nerves.

“I am sure the hotel has personnel to help you with that,” Mustang answers dryly. It is always like that with him, isn’t it? It is always the game of who will budge first, and Ed thinks they are both too tired now to carry that on for long.

“Maybe they have, maybe they don’t, but I’ve decided that you are the one who is gonna carry my luggage to the room.”

“Yes, right,  _ you’ve decided _ . I recall you telling me this yesterday. Because, like you said, I owe you. How about that, Edward,  _ instead  _ of carrying your luggage I will tell you what caused that… reaction from me yesterday. And we’ll call it even,” Mustang’s tone is so rich on sarcastic connotations that it almost sounds angry. 

“How is it  _ instead?!  _ You’ve already said you  _ would  _ tell me! You are just being a lazy bastard!”

“I am just being a bastard, who doesn’t want to ruin his back carrying those suitcases which are obviously filled with rocks —  ”

“Those are books! Fuck you!” That asshole!

“ —  which would be a very unfortunate addition to the problems I am currently facing.”

“Which I bet you got on your head yourself! You can’t do shit without having me on your team, don’t you, Colonel?”

“Brigadier-General.” 

“Whatever, General Bastard. You didn’t answer my question.”

“Technically I didn’t get into this mess myself, although details are yet to be learnt. Here is your hotel, Edward. I’ll wait for you here. Don’t take too long.” 

“Yeah, yeah, don’t go anywhere.” Damn, this stupid Bastard, making him so worried that he couldn’t even sleep this night, and damn him for being such an evasive shit now for making Ed so frustrated his head actually starts hurting from all the unreleased anger. 

Ed gets out of the car, slamming the door closed as hard as he can manage hoping that Mustang will have a headache because Ed sure doesn’t want to suffer alone, and heads to the hotel entrance.

**~~~**

“Don’t go anywhere.”

Like he ever can.

_ ‘It is you, Ed, who always goes away. You burst into other people’s lives, flipping their worlds upside down and leaving an unremovable mark there, the trace of something extraordinary, and then you leave. Like the ones, whose lives you’ve touched, can keep living as if nothing happened.’ _

Roy’s head starts throbbing with the first touches of what promises to be the headache of a lifetime, and yet there is a long and difficult conversation ahead which he is not looking forward to. All he wants right now is to get home to his bed and maybe die there peacefully in his sleep, but it is Ed they are talking about, and he will not let Roy be until he pulls the answers to his every question out of the man.

Roy lets out a deep breath, closes his eyes and drops his head on his hands on the wheel, waiting for Ed to check in in the hotel and go back to the car so they can just get this over with as soon as possible.

Closing his eyes proves to be a mistake as he falls to a sticky hands of that type of naps which leaves you more tired than rested. After what can’t probably be more than half an hour he is woken up by Ed slipping down on a seat beside him again and shutting the door with such force that makes Roy think that it wouldn’t hurt more even if his own head was between this door and the doorframe.

“By the way you still haven’t answered my question, evasive Bastard,” there is almost no edge in Ed’s tone now and Roy thinks that this little break in their conversation let Ed to cool off a bit and now he keeps going like that on mere stubbornness. 

“Maybe if you finally stop calling me Bastard, I will be able to pay better attention to your questions,” Roy straightens up wincing at the waves of pain piercing his skull at every move and starts the engine. 

“Maybe if you stop being a Bastard, I will stop calling you that.” 

Roy’s vision is blurry on the edges and he actually starts to wonder if they are going to make it safely to his house. 

“Look, Edward. As you can probably tell, I didn’t really sleep last night. I have a horrible headache which I suspect now is entirely your doing, and in all honesty I don’t have it in me right now to deal with your usual bratty remarks. So for as much as I am genuinely glad to have you here as I have already told you, I would very much appreciate it if you demonstrated some pity and shut your mouth while I’m driving, unless you really want us to crash, because right now I am not even entirely sure if there is one car in front of us or there are two of them glued together in a weird way.”

The silence coming after is uncanny and unexpected, and Roy wonders if he’s actually said all that out loud. Then the sudden warmth of the hand on his shoulder makes him turn his head to his passenger which would’ve ended in them crashing, if Ed didn’t already have his other hand on the wheel keeping the car on the road.

“Mustang, please, stop the car,” the voice is soft but steady and sounds more like an order than a request, despite the “please” in it, which Roy could swear he has never heard Ed saying before. More from the surprise than obedience, Roy pulls over with Ed’s hands still one on the wheel and the other warm on his shoulder. 

Without saying a word, Ed drops his hands, gets out of the car, goes around it and opens the door from Roy’s side.

“Move, I’ll drive.”

Roy is too tired to argue and silently moves to the passenger seat. Ed sinks down on the driving seat and turns to look at Roy.

“The address,” he says in the same flat tone and this Ed is so different from the bratty kid Roy remembers him to be, and it shouldn’t feel that normal for the man to just give in and surrender the control to someone else's hands, even when it is just such a simple act as driving his car, and yet he feels that there is no person other than perhaps Hawkeye, but that is so different, who he trusts so fully that it should not be considered normal. And if Hawkeye is of course perfectly aware of her part in this, Roy is sure that Ed doesn’t even suspect how deep the man’s trust to him goes.

Roy presses his head to the car window, enjoying the cold of it on the burning skin of his forehead, shuts his eyes and he is not sure if he manages to finish telling Ed the address of his house before his slips to the merciful void of sleep.

**~~~**

Ed hadn’t realised how exhausted Mustang was until he saw how resignedly the man followed up with Ed’s requests. He fell asleep as soon as the last syllables of his home address left his mouth. Ed has never driven so carefully in his life, trying not to disturb the man beside him. They arrived at Mustang’s house about half an hour ago, but Ed couldn’t bring himself to wake the man up. 

Cursing himself for being too soft hearted he decides to take this opportunity to look at the sleeping man closely.

His hair is messy and one black lock is covering Mustang’s eye, and Ed’s hand is itching to reach out and swipe it aside. It must be tickling the man, Ed explains himself, trying to justify his actions, as he extends his left arm and carefully brushes the lock of hair from the man’s eye with one flesh finger, praying that such little intrusion will not pull Mustang from his sleep. And he can’t hide the real reason behind this from himself anymore. He wants to touch the man not just for a mere physical sensation, but in an idle faith that with this little skin contact he can pass on some of his own life energy. It is worrisome and straight upsetting to see Mustang in a state like that. It must be really bad if the man just passes out in the car letting Ed drive, and Ed curses himself for being so pushy before, he knows he is not that little brat anymore, but seeing Mustang again after almost two years, awoke this impatient stubborn kid inside him. 

Ed sighs and drops his head back, raising his hands and pressing the hills of them onto his eyes. He should probably wake the man soon before he falls asleep too. Besides, the car is hardly a good place for a healthy sleep and Ed doesn’t want to add to either his or Mustang’s problems a strained neck.

But before he can do anything, there is a faint rustle of clothes on the other seat and a voice hoarse from sleep asks:

“Ed? We arrived? Why didn’t you wake me up?”

Ed drops his hands and looks at Mustang. It’s hard to say if this short nap has been for worse or for better for the man. Mustang blinks several times as if trying to focus his vision and brushes his hair back with one hand which makes it look even messier than before, and this should  _ not _ look that adorable.

“Thought you’ll be no use to me if I don’t let you nap for a bit - you still owe me some answers,” Ed says trying to sound more as his usual irritated self, though right now he thinks he would agree to just sit and watch the man sleep  _ for hours _ , answers be damned. 

Mustang runs his hand through his hair again and says, as they both get out of the car:

“Of course, Edward, thank you.”

Mustang opens the door of his house and Ed notices him deactivating two safety arrays on the door frame in the process.

They enter the house and Ed follows the man inside, as he heads to the kitchen at the end of the corridor not even bothering to take off his shoes. Ed stops in the threshold leaning on a doorframe and folds his arms on his chest watching the man setting a kettle on the stove and rummaging through cabinets searching for something. There are two dirty cups with what looks like remains of coffee on the table.

“How much have you already had?”

Mustangs sets two clean cups on the table and looks at Ed, one brow raised in question.

“Pardon me?”

“I asked, how much coffee have you already had, Mustang.”

Mustang brow falls to its usual position and the man turns to the stove, his back to Ed.

“Strictly speaking, that was not what you asked in the first place, Edward. But in any case I fail to see how it is your business.”

“Don’t want you to die on me when you heart explodes of so much caffeine before you tell me what happened.”

“Trust me, Edward, my heart can handle a few cups of coffee, I happen to know from experience.”

“Yeah, if it is just the coffee we are talking about here,” Ed mumbles under his breath, but Mustang hears it anyway. He makes few steps towards Ed and locks his eyes with Ed’s. But until Ed can place the emotion racing in these dark eyes, the man’s face is blank again and he tilts a corner of his lips in a mocking smile.

“Well, well, Edward, say whatever you want, but I have already lost track today on how many times your words left very little room for some other interpretation than you worrying about my well-being.” 

Ed’s retort is on the tip of his tongue when Mustang adds in a voice low and quiet: “Thank you”,  and there is suddenly no hint of the mockery in his smile and Ed’s answer stucks in his throat and he just nods shortly.

Mustang eyes linger on him for another moment.

“You’ve grown.”

This one is easier to answer.

“Of course I fucking have! What’d you think, I’d stay that short forever?!”

Mustang’s brows climb up and hide in his bangs and the first sparks of laughter in his dark eyes prove to Ed that he just made a huge strategic mistake.

“Oh, so you do admit that you were short, Edward?”

Ed tries to hit the Bastard in the chest with his automail hand, but even tired as he is, the man dodges easily.

“Bastard! I hate you!” Ed screams at the man, who is slowly retreating backwards to leave more space between them. The Bastard is laughing. Ed would give away another of his limbs if this let him listen to this laugh every day for the rest of his life. He grabs the cup from the counter and throws it at Mustang. He misses of course - he will fix the broken cup later.

“Well, congratulation with your growth spurt, Edward,” the man says laughing joyfully. He then turns around and adds without looking at Ed before exiting the kitchen:

“Looks good on you.”

Huh?!

**~~~**

And it really does.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!  
> I really appreciate every comment, please don't hesitate to let me know what you think =)


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “What have you heard about time-travel alchemy?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is heavy on dialogue, which came as a real challenge to me, but it was unavoidable. I plan to make the next one more emotional.
> 
> Million thanks to **Himeneka** for invaluable help!

Roy doesn’t know if he can do this. He doesn’t know  _ how _ he is going to do this. Is there even a right way of dropping such information on someone’s head?

Roy is standing frozen in front of his table in the living room looking with an empty stare at the opened drawer with the crumpled papers lying inside and he realises suddenly that behind all that noble intentions of preserving Ed from extra worries, there is a simple fear. The fear of letting someone else see the evidence of his failure - future or not, doesn’t really matter. Roy has managed to convince the people close to him that he is the best candidate to make a Fuhrer of this country, he managed to convince  _ himself _ , and they believe him, they believe  _ in _ him. And he knows that this includes Ed too - the young man still has his 520 cenz he promised to give Roy back the day he becomes Fuhrer. How can he betray his trust? How can he just― 

“Hey, Mustang, you all right?”

_ No, Ed, I am not. _

**~~~**

Ed found Mustang in the living room. The man is standing near the big wooden desk in the far corner of the room staring at something in the drawer and looking like a man who is watching his whole life going to shit. It has been too many times since last night’s conversation when Ed is startled by the look on the man’s face and the wave of worry it evokes in him, and honestly he has had enough of it. He is willing and, he hopes, is able to help, but he can’t do anything until he knows what is happening.

“Hey, Mustang, you all right?” 

He is obviously not, and Ed is not expecting him to admit this, but at least the sound of this question manages to shake Mustang out of his thoughts - he looks up at Ed and the blond notices the traces of some inner struggle running along the man’s features. 

Mustang  doesn’t say anything for a few moments, then averts his gaze and takes a pile of papers from the drawer he has been staring at so intently a moment ago. Ed is still waiting for the answer when the man rounds the table and crosses the room to sit in the armchair near the fireplace gesturing to Ed at the couch beside him. He drops the papers on the small coffee table in front of him, leans back and shuts his eyes.

“No,” and this short answer proves true Ed’s worst suspicions - this must be really bad if the man admits this out loud.

Ed makes his way to the couch and sits down locking his gaze on the crumbled papers lying on the table, and he wonders absentmindedly if he really wants to know what information they hold.

“What is this?” Ed asks with a short glance at the other man.

“I want to hear you own assumptions on the matter first,” Mustang answers without opening his eyes, his body laying boneless in the armchair. “I think some of it may be written in your alchemy code. At least I hope it is.” 

His alchemy code? How can it be?

“My what?! The fuck do you mean?”

“Just read, Edward, please. And let me know if you can understand anything there. I will try to answer some of your questions after that.”

Confused, Ed grabs the document from the table and takes a closer look. The papers are crumpled and dirty at places, and what is this? Blood? But what startles him the most is that it’s his own handwriting though more shaky than usual looking at him from the papers in his hands, but Ed can swear it is the first time he sees this document. 

“What the hell is this? This looks like my handwriting but I have never written such a thing. Where did you get it from?”

“I would prefer to leave this question to be entirely unanswered, if I have any saying in this, but you will probably not let me, so let’s just leave it to be the last one in your list for now.” 

Ed scowls but lets it slide, more curious to see what’s written in the document than just arguing with Mustang pointlessly. 

He runs through pages, flips them over and there are indeed some notes made with his alchemy code. Which makes absolutely no sense. Because if Ed didn’t write this himself (and he is absolutely sure he didn’t unless he is suffering from some sort of memory loss which he is completely unaware of), there is no way someone else could use his code, simply because Ed has it all memorised and there is no possible way for someone to get hold of it unless Ed decides to reveal this information to them. Which is also highly unlikely, as every alchemist has his own alchemy code he uses to cypher their private researches, and letting another person know the code is basically giving them a full access to your head and your whole life - Ed struggles to imagine the level of trust this might require. 

There are a few lists of names and several dates, unciphered, all written in what doesn’t look like any order, and Ed notices the names of Mustang’s team, as well as the name of the man himself - it is repeated several times in different places along with the date set fourteen years from now. 

Absolutely nothing Ed sees makes sense. He recognizes his usual random way of taking notes but here this goes overboard and looks more like notes made by a mentally unstable person. 

All of this is completely not what he expected to receive from Mustang and looks more like some sort of a weird joke, and he fails to see how this could lead the man lying limp in the armchair beside him to such a state. 

“This makes zero sense to me,” he says simply.

“So it’s not your alchemy code then…” Mustangs says roughly and the pain in his voice is too obvious to not notice, and Ed looks up in surprise. This was apparently not the right thing to say, so he clarifies:

“No, it  _ is _ my alchemy code, at least in most parts, but other than that all these notes are just weird…” Ed sighs, puts the papers beside him on the couch, sets his elbows on his knees and leans forward to look at Mustang closely, though the other man still hasn’t opened his eyes. “In normal circumstances I’d ask you if this is some sick joke, but…” he trails off trying to find the best way to formulate his confused thoughts.

Mustang half-opens his eyes and looks at Ed through the dark eyelashes.

“But?”

“But I… I see what it is costing you to let me read this. And though I don’t really understand the reason behind that, I appreciate the trust,” Ed answers quietly fighting against the urge to avert his eyes. “And if it’s that important to you, it is important for me, but I…” he holds Mustang’s gaze carefully and he sees the reflection of his own surprise in those dark eyes at the sound of probably the most sincere words Ed has ever dared to tell this man to his face. Mustang blinks and the surprise is gone from his eyes replaced with something more like interest with a question mark on the end, as if he has not decided yet what exactly he is feeling right now, and Ed shakes his head and averts his eyes, wondering how he suddenly became an expert in Mustang’s eyes expressions. 

“But I need you to tell me what the hell is my own handwriting and my own alchemy code doing on these pages,” Ed finishes, grabbing the papers again and shaking them in the space between him and the General, feeling self-conscious after his own confession and the look in Mustang’s eyes, and irritated as a result of the wave of shame it threw at him. He crosses his legs, drops the papers on them and leans down, hiding his face behind his bangs. “Anyway, there are some names here, most of which I’ve never heard before, places, some short descriptions of events, but the dates are wrong, have you seen them?” Ed starts mumbling under his nose trying to keep his focus on the notes in front of him. “They all are mostly in ten-fifteen years from now, and―”

“What have you heard about time-travel alchemy?” 

Mustang’s sudden question makes Ed stop in the mid sentence and look up at the man, all his shame forgotten.

“What?’

“Have you heard anything about alchemy which allows you to travel through time?” Mustang rephrased his question, but this hardly changes anything.

“Yeah, I heard. It’s a fairytale for kids,” Ed answers dryly. “The fuck is that supposed to do with any of this?!”

“Some considered a Philosopher stone a fairytale, Edward, and yet we both are perfectly aware that it is real,” Mustang answers slowly, clearly studying Ed’s face for his reaction. Ed winces at the reminder and feels anger starting to bloom deep inside his chest. Was he wrong and the Bastard is making fun of him?

“This is different. No one has ever even tried to research such alchemy, because everyone knows it is absolutely impossible.” 

Mustang locks his hands on his knees and looks down on his intertwined fingers.

“Before last night I would have agreed with you, Ed,” he says quietly, almost whispers and lowers his head.

Ed can’t see his face behind his black hair and this pisses him off. First he says some bullshit like that, and now he can’t even look him in the eye. Ed doesn’t want to believe that all that was just an ultimate prank, he knows he didn’t imagine Mustang’s weariness and hurt, and as much as he is confident in the man’s soft spot for acting, he doubts the General would pull something like that just to make fun of him. But the implications of such an alchemy feel so wrong he tries denial first, almost against himself, and defaults to anger.

“The fuck is that supposed to mean? You must’ve hurt your head if you think I will believe this! Time-travel! You can not be serious, you are an alchemist yourself, how can you even believe in such a thing!” Ed jumps on his feet and the papers which have been lying on his lap, fall down on the floor in disarray. This makes Mustang raise his head and Ed sees him squint at the sheets of papers on the floor. “And what a stupid name - time-travel! It even sounds like a fucking fairytale. If I had any say in that, I’d change it to time-crossing, because this would make much more sense.”

Mustang suddenly chuckles hoarsely and without averting his eyes from the papers on the floor, says with a strange undertone which Ed can’t quite place: “Well, that’s actually what you said to me last night.”

Ed kicks the carpet with one foot in irritation and hears a rustle of a disturbed paper. Mustang’s face flinches and he makes a subtle move with his hand as if he wants to reach down to collect the papers, but he just says instead, without looking up at Ed:

“I would ask you not to damage this document, Edward. It has a certain value you have yet to understand but I can assure you that after you do, you will greatly regret if you’ve ruined some of the notes,” his voice is low, cold and collected, but Ed doesn’t miss the nervous flicking of his eyes jumping from the sheets on the floor to Ed’s boots and back.

Ed-two-years-ago would probably turn the papers into dust just for the sake of not doing what he’s told, but Ed is older now and as much as he still feels the urge to do something childish, he makes himself sit back on the couch, leaving the papers where they fell.

“I am sure I didn’t tell you anything like that last night, Mustang. And you better start making some sense, because I have very little patience left, and I am really tempted to just call Hawkeye right now to ask if you had some accident resulting in damage to your brain since I’ve last seen you.”

“You said, if it’s important for me, it’s important for you, Edward. So if that was not a lie I ask you to be patient, please, and not argue with everything I say,” Mustang is finally looking at Ed. “You are a genius, Edward, so for the sake of this discussion, can’t you just consider the possibility of some alchemy enabling someone to cross time?”

Ed indeed is a genius and he can add two and two, and the dates on the notes followed by Mustang’s question are not a simple coincidence, but there should be some other explanation that doesn’t necessitate the rewriting of like, every alchemy book ever.

“Ok, Mustang, let’s pretend that I can consider the possibility and blah-blah-blah. But even if it was possible to build such an array, using it would make no sense for the alchemist.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean that the price would be too high. Even  _ if _ such array could technically work, it would not bring any result for the alchemist who uses it.”

“You mean…”

“I mean it fucking costed Al his whole body and me my leg for our attempt to play God, Mustang! How much do you think the Truth will take for something which can possibly change the very course of human history?! It will just not let the alchemist through - there would be nothing left to let through!”

Mustang pinches the bridge of his nose and frowns.

“ Absence of evidence is not evidence of absence, Edward. What you are saying can basically mean that time-crossing has been considered impossible simply because no one has seen any time travelers, but our inability to see them does not constitute good evidence that it is impossible to build the array which would theoretically allow ―”

“Theoretically, yes! Have you heard what I said? The price for actually using such alchemy would make the whole thing absolutely pointless, Mustang! You can’t call something time-travel when it doesn’t execute its primal function as the actual time-travel.”

“Yes, Edward, I’ve heard what you said,” Mustang takes a deep breath, looks past Ed with hazy eyes and adds:  “ But what if the Truth lets the alchemist through for a limited amount of time and takes its toll on his way back?”

“I suppose it is possible, but why would it? It is not like it actually  _ asked _ us if we wanted to lose parts of our bodies now or a bit later,” Ed says sarcastically. “Plus, there would be nothing left going back, so unless it is intended as a one-way short trip, it’s pointless.”

Mustang visibly flinches and grips the armrests in a tight hold. His next words are so quiet, that Ed is not sure if this is the answer to him or to some inner dialogue the man is holding with himself:  

“It will get its due in any case...”

Ed brushes his face with his flesh hand in frustration - this conversation is going nowhere, but he has a strong suspicion, that it is due to his clinging to his attempts to deny that, as Ed is almost sure at this point, Mustang witnessed the actual time-crossing (those damn notes and his alchemy code in them!). It is making this conversation so damn frustrating - he doesn’t want it to be true, he doesn’t want to know the true value of the document Mustang showed him. He doesn’t want to know, what  _ will _ happen, that the knowledge of it brought the man in front of him over the edge and reduced him to a crying mess.

“And I suppose you have the evidence of this?”

Mustang rises to his feet and begins slowly picking up the papers from the floor.

“You gave me this. Last night, before your call,” he is standing now beside the couch, looking at the pile of papers in his hands, and Ed notices his fingers trembling slightly. “You were standing in the middle of this room when I came home, a large array under your feet. It was active all the time, you said you couldn’t walk outside its lines…” Mustang turns to look at Ed. “You were in your thirties. And you gave me this,” having said that, Mustang sits beside Ed and unceremoniously drops the papers on Ed’s lap. 

**~~~**

Roy is exhausted. His headache is long gone, replaced with a numb emptiness. And every minute of this conversation drains him of more and more energy. Perhaps he should’ve insisted on having this talk tomorrow, but he just didn’t expect how hard it would be.

“But… It’s impos―”

“Yes, impossible, and we’ve discussed it already, Edward. And yet it happened. So unless you really believe that I might be delusional, please take a look at this again, because it is important. Otherwise you are welcome to give me some explanation as to how your handwriting  _ and _ your alchemy code have appeared in these notes,” Roy leans back and turns his head to look at Ed. 

The young man is staring at the papers on his lap. They both are silent for a while and Roy keeps examining Ed’s profile for any reaction, trying not to listen to the all too soothing crackle of fire in the fireplace.

Ed suddenly turns his head and their eyes meet. Amber eyes, narrowed in concentration and confusion, are moving along Roy’s face, and the man realises Ed tries to find a confirmation of what he said being a truth in Roy’s eyes. They stay like that for what seems too long, Roy fighting his old habit of slipping in one of his masks, allows his face to relax and show everything the man feels at the moment, but he is afraid that there is nothing left except for a terrible tiredness. But whatever Ed sees, it makes him let out a shuddering breath and return his attention to the document. 

“Most dates are set ten-fifteen years from now,” Ed says in a flat tone which doesn’t let on anything that the young man might feel now. “But there are a couple of them in like two-three years from now or so. And have you seen this―”

“Two-three years?” Roy leans forward to look at the page in Ed’s hand. “What does it say, do you understand it?”

“No, it’s ciphered, and before you ask - I can decipher only the year with my code, but there is something else there I don’t recognise, will need some time to decode it. Have you seen―”

“Show me,” Roy reaches out and Ed gives him the page.

“In the left top corner.”

Roy looks at the part in question, and frowns at what he sees there. He recognises his own alchemy code and it probably shouldn't have come as a surprise to him considering the nature of the relationship between his future self and future Edward and he shift uncomfortably, suddenly too aware of the ring with both their names in the pocket of his pants. Telling Ed about this now is absolutely out of the question.

Roy gives the page back to Ed and pinches his nose bridge in frustration.

“Recognised anything?” Ed asks.

“It says not to take the promotion to Major General,” Roy says quietly. “What year was it?”

“1920”. Three years from now. 

“I see,” and he is not even surprised. That’s what it is all about, right? Him not becoming a Fuhrer so he doesn’t lead this country to a disaster. 

“How did you read that part?”

“It is written in my alchemy code,” Roy answers quietly and turns to look at the fire in the fireplace. He expects the question but it doesn’t follow, and when he glances at Ed again, the young man is staring in an empty space in front of him, eyes wide with what looks like surprise. He suddenly shakes himself out of this, lets out a sharp breath and goes back to reading the notes.

Roy shouldn’t say this.

“I have been expecting something along the line of  ‘ _ Why the fuck is your alchemy code in the middle of my notes?’ _ ”

Ed freezes for a moment and then asks without looking at the other man: 

“Do you know the answer to that question, Mustang?”

“I have a good idea.”

“And knowing that, do you want me to ask it?”

He’s grown, hasn’t he?..

“No, Edward, I don’t.”

Ed just nods sharply and fishes out several pages from the pile.

“Have you seen this date with your name? It is repeated several times on these few pages. Do you know what this means? Perhaps it is a part of a code, maybe the notes just seem―”

“It’s not a part of the code,” how will he say that if he can’t wrap his own head around it yet?

“You know what’s with that day? Looks important.”

Roy runs his fingers through his hair and sighs. He looks at Ed and says as casually as he can manage:

“It’s the date when the Fuhrer will be murdered.”

Ed’s face flinches and he sucks in a breath. He locks his eyes with Roy’s and frowns.

“Tell me everything.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!  
> I really appreciate every comment, please don't hesitate to let me know what you think =)
> 
> We have _at least_ two more chapters in this story.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “How dare you! How dare you sit here moping when he… When _I_ went through fucking hell and gave myself up to the Truth to warn you, to fucking give you a chance to fix all this mess! So now you can, what? Sit and sob over this document which costed _me, all of us_ our lives?! This is not the Roy Mustang I know!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Million thanks for betaing as usual to **Himeneka** , who keeps me grounded when it's needed and inspires me when I feel lost ^_^

The fire in the fireplace is almost burnt out when Roy finishes telling Ed everything that happened last night. Well, almost everything, leaving out just the part with the ring.

Ed is staring silently at the flickering sparkles running along cinders, and Roy stands up to turn on the light in the room - they’ve talked for hours now and the day is slowly dying outside of his windows.

It is perhaps the longest day of his life.

“You think he’s dead?” Ed speaks for the first time in the last quarter of an hour, and Roy goes back to sit on the couch beside the young man and looks at the half empty bottle of whisky standing on the coffee table, wondering if it would be a smart idea to drink now - it will pull him to sleep which he really needs right now, but Ed probably has questions, and they _must_ discuss this one way or another.

He doesn’t need to ask Ed who’s “he” the young man is talking about.

“Yes. And you said it yourself - such alchemy would require an ultimate sacrifice. It is only logical.”

_Goodbye, Roy._

And this should not hurt that much, should it? Here is Ed, beside him, living and breathing, and they will figure it out, and he should not―

**~~~**

“Yeah… And I guess it doesn’t matter anyway, right? That’s why he… I―fuck, this shit is confusing― _he_ gave you all these notes, so we can avoid it. So it doesn’t matter now, we should not think about this.”

And yet Ed can’t stop himself from looking at the date, and the name of the man sitting beside him, circled so many times, so frantically, almost screaming its importance to him. And despite his own words he can’t stop shivers running down his spine, he can’t brush away a sticky hand of horror from grabbing his breaths away - he doesn’t care if he is going to die in 16 years, 60 or 6, but what distresses him is the cause he _will_ die for, if they don’t prevent this. All these people, all their friends… and Mustang. This Bastard, who Ed hasn't been able to stop thinking about for the two years he was away, couldn’t stop caring about - they all are going to die.

Is it why Mustang is sitting here now like this - hunched, staring at the floor in sullen silence? Not everyone, like Ed, could easily accept knowing the day of their possible death even if there is a chance to fix it. Or can it be perhaps that he feels responsible for all this? He will be Fuhrer, but he should realise that one man, Fuhrer or not, can’t be responsible for everything. He understands this, right?..

Ed shifts uncomfortably, not sure what to say or do, now that he knows more about what is causing Mustang’s distress. He is not very good at comforting people, so he just does what seems logical in this situation - grab the papers from the table again to take a better look at them. Knowing now what they are about can make it easier to sort out this muddle.

“I’ll decipher everything I can and try to organize it all in some order, I need just something to write on. I suppose you’ll prefer to keep this in your house, so I’ll work from here, should take just a few hours from the look of it, if you don’t mind me staying that late. Go and sleep, Mustang, you look horrible, I’ll mark the parts which I can’t decipher so you can check if they are written in your code. We should have it all clear and organised tomorrow afternoon tops….” Ed trails off and looks at Mustang. The man doesn’t seem to even hear what he is saying, lost in his thoughts. “ _Or_ you can sit here and mope for the rest of the day, for all I care!” Ed adds starting to feel annoyed.

Apparently the Bastard decided he is the one here who should be more shocked in the face of this. And yet he had the whole day to process this information, unlike Ed. And isn’t it Ed who should be sitting here all startled and shit, because it’s not like every day you learn that your future self decided to kill himself in such an extravagant way? What is wrong with this man?! If Ed squints he can even see all this as good news rather than bad - they got lucky to not only get a glimpse at their future, but receive a set of instructions on how to fix the mess before it ever happens. Yes, very confusing instructions, but still! Come to think of it, Ed actually starts feeling much better about all this now, but Mustang is ruining the mood spreading despair in the air. He is nothing like the man Ed has had a crush on for so long. The Mustang he knows has always been grounding him, he has been something solid, strong and confident. Why is he letting something like this affect him in such a way?

“On the other hand, if you wanna mope, go mope somewhere else, ‘cause you are creating unhealthy conditions and I can’t concentrate like this!”

Mustang inhales sharply and leans back.

“My whole damn life is a fucking joke, Ed.”

And Ed is not sure what surprises him the most here: the curses that Mustang so rarely allows in what he says, Ed’s shortened name, rolling off of the man’s tongue like it is the most natural way for him to address the young man, or the way he says this phrase - almost with a chuckle, with a deep belief in what he says and a full acceptance of it.

“What?” is everything Ed can manage in answer.

“What will I become, Ed? What will I become to let this all happen? I built my _whole life_ around the idea that I will make a good Fuhrer for this country. I…” he stops for a moment and Ed thinks that he wants to say something else, but Mustang just closes his mouth, sighs and drops his face in his hands.

 _“The fuck are you talking about?!”_ the words are on the tip of Ed’s tongue and a wave of anger washes over him, but then the realization hits him, and the anger disappears just as suddenly.

Can he really judge the man for his breakdown when he has practically seen the failure of all of his plans? How would Ed feel if during his quest in searching for a Philosopher’s stone, so determined to get his brother’s body back, that it was the only thing in his life he lived for, his whole world spinning around his guilt of losing Al’s body and only the hope to get it back, to make amends for what he had done, was pushing him forward, he’d discover with a scaring certainty that he will _not_ succeed, that he will _not_ get his brother’s body back, that he will probably lose him completely, that all, _everything_ he was doing was in vain, and he will never be able to fix his mistake? Would Ed be able to move forward with such knowledge? To keep a smile on his face? Would he have enough strength to clench his teeth and try to change this future? Would he be able to brush off all the doubts this knowledge planted in him and not let it distract him from his goal?

Or would it break him and make him bereft of the very will to live, filling him instead with gruesome doubts of his every action, his every word?

Who can live like this? No one should. No one deserves to be dragging such weight on his shoulders. And least of all the man sitting now beside him, face in his hands, no vestige of the all so confident and cocky General-Bastard he presents to the world. Right now it is Roy Mustang, trusting him with all this, trusting him to see him like this - vulnerable and broken, letting him behind the carefully crafted persona he presents to the world, and showing Ed the man he is underneath. And Ed forgets how to breath with all the emotions and feelings storming in his reeling head. And faced with these emotions Ed can clearly see the sense of the sacrifice his future self had made. The fact that he went to Mustang to give him the notes and not to Ed himself, and both of their alchemy codes in the documents, and Mustang’s reluctance of telling Ed the reason behind that, and even this date fourteen years from now circled with a shaky hand over and over and over again… All of this begins to make so much more sense for Ed now.

Because he knows he will give anything, he will give his own life to make the weight of this burden lying on Mustang’s shoulder disappear, because Ed finds it easy to give if it is worth it, if it could help people, and it is the only thing he can do, and the man before him is worth _everything_ he can give him, _for_ him, because his life is worth so much more than Ed’s, because Ed is sure he _will_ build the better future for this country, doesn’t matter what the actual future has to say about it now, because this is the thing about future, isn’t it? You can change it in the present.

And Ed rises up, crosses the short distance between them, stands in front of Mustang and grabs the man by his shoulders pushing him back, and this makes the man drop his hands from his face and look up at Ed. There is a slight surprise in Mustang’s dark eyes and Ed fixes his eyes on them and makes his voice sound as convincing and steady as possible despite his fluttering heart, despite the lump in his throat and the racing thoughts which are trying to break his skull from the inside, and he says what needs to be said:

“How dare you! How dare you sit here moping when he… When _I_ went through fucking hell and gave myself up to the Truth to warn you, to fucking give you _a chance_ to fix all this mess! So now you can, what? Sit and sob over this document which costed _me,_ _all of us_ our lives?! This is not the Roy Mustang I know!”

Mustang frowns and says quietly:

“Please, let go of me, Edward.” It is not enough.

Ed tightens his grip on the man’s shoulders and raises his voice. Damn him, if he is going to let the stupid Bastard fuck up his whole life just because no one could deliver a solid kick to his sorry ass.

“Would you prefer to never have known this?! To live that nightmare yourself and get fucking murdered by some drachman asshole at 45 fucking years old?! What a pathetic fucking death, if you ask me! Are you fucking with me now, Bastard, with all this mushy disgusting sulking?! How did you descent to this?! Don’t you see that we have this awesome opportunity to know our future?! And we can change it now! This is fucking cool as fuck and you are just sitting here pitying yourself! Get your shit together! This country doesn’t need a Fuhrer who sulks over a shit like that!”

Mustang’s shoulders under Ed’s palms tense and his eyes are more focused now, looking closely to Ed, but he doesn’t move.

“That’s right, Edward! It doesn’t need a Fuhrer like me! Don’t you think that I most certainly did everything to make this country a better place, but here is where it led - to a full scale war with two other countries! Doesn’t it show that I am a bad candidate for this position?!”

“It fucking doesn’t!” Ed gives the man a light shake and smiles inside his head to how Mustang’s face scowls. “Or do you think I’d spend two fucking years in some Drachman shithole creating that array knowing it would fucking kill me, if I wasn’t sure that you are able to fix this?! To prevent that from happening?!”

“I don’t know! You were a mess! You were hardly lucid! And you’ve seen the notes. They are definitely not written by someone in a perfect mental state. They may not even be useful,” Mustang finally pushes Ed’s hands from his shoulders in clear irritation, and Ed lets him, but he stays where he is in front of the sitting man and folds his arms on his chest. Mustang can’t possibly be comfortable with the way he has to look up to see Ed’s face, but he is not making any attempt to stand or change it somehow. His voice is clearer now and Ed thinks he’s managed to partially pull him out of his inner sulking, but this is still not enough.

“Well we fucking don’t know it yet, don’t we! So maybe you stop saying bullshit until we know what is in these notes? And if I managed to build such an array without losing my whole body on the way here, you really think I wouldn’t manage to fill a few papers with useful information? Why would I even fucking use this array then?”

“Edward, if you are trying to convince me that I will make a good Fuhrer despite this evidence of the contrary, I’m afraid that you probably won’t succeed” Mustang answers and averts his eyes.

That’s enough. Disappointment and anger rushes through Ed’s body, he drops his arms and inhales slowly.

He bends over, grabs Mustang by the collar of his shirt with the automail hand and tugs sharply, dragging the startled man to his feet, thankful that the height difference between them now is almost insignificant. He pulls Mustang’s face closer, noticing that the man clenched the hand holding him with his own, and locks his gaze with Mustang’s. And this is the closest he has ever stood to him, and any other time this would make his heart race with entirely different emotions, but now is not the time nor the place for that.

“Listen to me, Roy-fucking-Mustang,” his voice is low, hoarse and collected, despite that everything in him is threatening to spill out in an ugly torrent of emotion. He doesn’t let it. “You are the best damn man except for my brother who I’ve ever known and I’ve met a shitton of people. And you are the best fucking candidate to be the Fuhrer of this country and―”

“Let go, Edward,” voice low and dark eyes half closed - this is more like the man Ed knows rather than that mess he has been this whole day.

“SHUT UP! And I will _not_ let you deny yourself the possibility to make this country better!”

“Edward.”

“I still owe you those 520 cenz, and I will fucking hunt you for every fucking minute of your pathetic life until I can give you them back, to make sure that not a single breath of yours is spent for anything other than working for the best future this country can possibly have!” Ed is almost screaming again, breathing hard.

“Ed,” his name is a soft sound on Mustang’s lips and Ed’s breath hitches. There is suddenly no trace of the adrenalin flowing through his veins just a moment ago, and Ed is too aware that he is holding Mustang so close that they are basically breathing the same air and he can see the slight difference in color between Mustang’s pupils and irises. Blue. His eyes are of a very dark shade of blue. How didn’t he notice it before?.. And Mustang’s other hand is on Ed’s left shoulder - when did he put it there?

Ed loosens his grip on the man’s shirt, but doesn’t let go, and speaks again trying to sound calm:

“For what it’s worth, I am certain you will make a damn good Fuhrer, and now, with these notes, you have even more chances, just give it a try. And just know, that if you need my support or any help in this, you don’t even have to ask - I’ll see you to the top no matter what.”

“Thank you, Ed,” the man answers, tightening his grip on Ed’s shoulder for a brief moment, and smiles. And Ed thinks this little smile is worth all the hours they spent arguing today.

“Yeah… Sure,” Ed mumbles under his breath, averting his eyes and finally letting go of Mustang’s shirt. A warm hand on his left shoulder lingers for another moment, but when Ed looks up again, Mustang is already standing at a safe distance from Ed.

“If you don’t mind I would very much want to have some sleep right now, even though there is still some time left till the actual night. I’d drive you to your hotel, if I wasn’t so sure that I will most definitely crash the car in my current state. You are welcome to stay the night, there is a guest room upstairs. And we can go through the notes together tomorrow when we both have a fresh head.”

A loud rumbling from his stomach interrupts Ed as he opens his mouth to answer. Mustang chuckles and starts walking from the room.

“Or we can eat something first. I think I have enough to make us some sandwiches…” he says as he exits the room.

Ed inhales slowly, waits till his heartbeat is reduced to normal, and follows.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “So, there are still some things which you know but are not going to tell me?” he asks after a few moments.  
> “Some, yes.”  
> “Because you think they are irrelevant?”  
> “Because I think they might change along with more important things.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New chapter so soon! What is going on?!  
> I just have no chill, that's what xD
> 
> We have a little appearance of Al and Winry here, and that part is written by **Himeneka**. Plus the whole chapter is betaed by her as well as usual, which I am grateful for to no limits.
> 
> Enjoy =)

Roy is barely staying conscious right now, it is closing on forty hours since he last slept, but he knows they _need_ to eat, as the last time they both had something in their stomachs was early morning today, though Roy is not sure about Ed in that respect.

He has a lot to think about, especially after what Ed said, but it will have to wait, as now he has no brain capacity left for that.

He sets the kettle on the oven and begins to prepare some simple sandwiches with those few ingredients he has - he will need to go buy some groceries tomorrow if they are going to work on the notes then.

Uneven steps - one leg is audibly heavier than the other - and the scritching of the chair being moved tells him that Ed has followed him to the kitchen.

“I can call a cab, you know. To the hotel I mean,” Ed says behind his back. “I would come back tomorrow.”

“If you wish. But it is a half an hour’s ride, and considering that you didn’t sleep last night at all, you should feel near as tired as I am now, and I am very close to just sliding to the floor and sleeping where I stand,” Roy answers and throws a quick look at Ed over his shoulder. The young man is sitting at the table, head leaning on his hand, eyes unfocused and half closed. “I don’t mind if you stay, Edward.”

“Hm, okay.”

Roy sets a plate with several sandwiches on the table and Ed grabs one and shoves it in his mouth as soon as the plate is within his reach. Roy drops on the chair in front of him and takes one sandwich for himself. He is far past the point when you are so tired and hungry, that the mere thought of putting some food in your mouth makes you more nauseous than happy, but he knows he will regret it later if he doesn’t eat, so he takes a bite and starts chewing lazily.

“By the way, Edward, why didn’t Alphonse come with you to Central?” he asks casually, happily changing the subject, as soon as he is sure he can keep his meal down.

Ed is working on his third sandwich already but he stops at Roy’s question and answers:

“Ah… He is in Rush Valley now.”

He sounds strangled and Roy raises a brow in confusion. Did the two brothers have some argument or a fight? Roy is so used to seeing them always together, he would have thought them inseparable.

“Rush Valley? Isn’t it where Ms. Rockbell works?”

“Aha,” Ed answers fast, perhaps even a bit too fast, and Roy notices a faint blush on the young man’s cheeks.

“Did something happen between you and Alphonse, Edward?”

Ed finally looks up at Roy and there is the faintest trace of  surprise on his face at this question.

“What? No, of course not!”

Can it be about Ms. Rockbell then? Roy had always thought there was something between her and Ed, but Ed’s future self told him last night she would be marrying Alphonse. Although neither that nor the nature of his own relationship with Ed ( _possible_ relationship, he corrects himself, not without some regret, as this can also change if they are going to work toward changing the future) has to mean that Ed wasn’t interested in Winry in the first place.

“Forgive me for intruding, Edward, but you sounded sort of unhappy when you mentioned that your brother is visiting Ms. Rockbell.”

Ed looks at the rest of the sandwich in his hand, as if hesitating what to do with it, his lips twitch, he sighs, puts it away and looks at Roy.

“He is not just visiting. And I am not unhappy. It’s just…” he pauses and looks around the kitchen as if trying to find some words for what he wants to say. “I sort of almost made a huge mistake last year.”  

Except for the part where Alphonse is not simply visiting Ms. Rockbell, Roy has no idea what mistake Ed is talking about, but the young man is visibly trying to collect his thoughts, so Roy holds back his questions, waiting for Ed to continue.

“You know, I grew up with Winry, and me and Al we always fought when we were kids for who would marry her when we would grow up,” Ed lowers his gaze to the table and his fingers start nervously playing with the bread crumbs there. “And I kind of thought it would be me, you know. And I didn’t even think too much about it, it seemed sort of a natural thing to do after all that shit that happened and I finally managed to get Al’s body back and…” he is mumbling now, blush back on his cheeks. “And well, when me and Al were visiting Winry, he was still recovering, and I told him I wanted to propose to her.”

Now, that is news for Roy but he is hardly surprised. Partly he expected that to happen eventually, since Ms. Rockbell was a good looking young lady who seem to really care about Ed. They grew up together and she was the same age as Ed, and all of this basically made her a good choice for Ed to start relationship with. Which costed Roy some occasional heartache when he thought about it, but he accepted this a long time ago - both his feelings to Ed and that he can never be anything more than a friend to the young man. This changed yesterday and Roy still can’t fully wrap his head around it.

Ed’s fingers are now drawing invisible arrays on the surface of the table and Roy asks:

“May I assume, from your reaction, and that Alphonse… is _not just visiting_ , that your brother perhaps talked you out of this?”

“Well yeah. We talked and I realised that it was so stupid of me. Well, actually, Al told me I was being an idiot.”

“I’m sorry, Edward, I’m afraid I don’t quite understand.” Did Alphonse perhaps tell Ed about his own feelings to Ms. Rockbell?

“Al was so surprised. He said he had never thought that I was in love with Winry. And you see, the thing is, I have never been! She is like a sister to me, I don’t know what got into me back then, and if not for Al I’d have fucked up all of our lives with this stupid decision,” Ed sighs and brushes his bangs aside with his flesh hand. “Al is so much smarter than me. It is scary sometimes how much he sees…”

Not sure what Ed means by this, Roy chooses not to get into too much details here so instead he asks:

“So I assume Alphonse and Ms. Rockbell are together now?”

“Yeah.”

“And you are still ashamed that you almost proposed to your brother’s girlfriend?”

“What? No! The fuck are talking about, Mustang? I am not ashamed. Al talked me out of it and I’m glad he did.”

“Well, I just assumed by your blush that―”

“What?! I don’t blush, you Bastard!” Ed almost screams, standing up and slamming his palms on the table.

“Of course, Edward, if you say so,” Roy says with a chuckle.

“Shut up! It has nothing to do with this!”

“Of course, Edward. I apologise for intruding,” Roy answers trying to suppress the urge to smile so this doesn’t agitate Ed even more.

Ed flops back into his seat and exhales sharply. Roy thinks he can hear some very quiet muttering of a probably offensive nature, but he doesn’t comment. After a few moments Ed calms down and finishes his abandoned sandwich. As the last piece of it disappears inside his mouth, his eyes suddenly widen as if he realised something, he looks up at Roy and frowns.

“Wait, did you know all that? Dammit, I bet you fucking knew all that, you tricky Bastard!’

“Not the part with the proposal, no. Only about your brother and Ms. Rockbell.”

“Why didn’t you tell me before, Mustang?! What else did you decide to hide from me?”

“Because it is irrelevant to the bigger picture of what we want to prevent. I believe this piece of information was given to me by your future self by accident - as I mentioned before, you… he was not particularly lucid, Edward.”

Ed wants to answer something, but he closes his mouth and frowns, thinking.

“So, there are still some things which you know but are not going to tell me?” he asks after a few moments.

“Some, yes.”

“Because you think they are irrelevant?”

“Because I think they might change along with more important things.”

“I see,” Ed answers quietly, tilting his head to the side and looking at Roy sharply. “Well, we define our own future, right?” he says as he stands up. “Which door for the guest room?”

“In the end of the corridor upstairs,” Roy answers a bit baffled as he doesn’t know what to think of what Ed just said and _how_ he said it.

“Thanks. And go get some sleep too, Mustang, you look like hell,” Ed says and walks out of the kitchen.

**~~~**

Roy isn’t sure what woke him up. He doesn’t know how long he has slept, but even though it is not yet near enough, he already feels much better than before. And he was lucky not to see any nightmares, which too often for his liking twist his dreams at nights, forcing him to spend the rest of such nights fully awake, wandering the house or trying to occupy his troubled mind reading in his little library or going through some of the paperwork he occasionally takes home from the office.

He reaches to the nightstand to light a small lamp. A quick glance at the clock shows that it is barely past three in the night. The house is quiet and he lies on his back again, watching shadows on the ceiling and wondering if he should go check the house just in case, though he doesn’t feel any alchemy - the arrays on the door and windows were not activated by some intruder. What woke him up then?

And then he hears it - a muffled half cry half moan from the end of the hall where the guest room is. Ed!

Roy is on his feet before he registers he made the movement, one glove with the red array already on his hand - he always keeps a spare pair of his ignition gloves under his pillow - after you’ve been through so much in your life paranoia becomes just a mere necessity rather than something out of the ordinary.

Ed whimpers again as Roy exits his room and crosses the hall to the guest bedroom. He thinks he can hear some words, but Ed’s voice is too muffled to be sure.

He opens the door and enters the room. It is dark and all Roy can see is the grey shape of the bed occupied by the blond alchemist.

Antsy rustling of sheets and the husked strained cry:

“No, no― I’m sorry―”

Roy crosses the room to the bed, switches on the lamp and turns to look at the bed. A comforter is lying half on the floor, apparently got kicked by Ed during his restless sleep, the young man himself is clenching the sheets in tight grasps of his fists, knuckles white. His long hair is a tangled blond mess, forehead glinting with sweat, deep frown between his eyebrows.

There is no mistaking it - Ed is having a nightmare, and just seeing this, this agony, makes Roy wonder if he too looks like that when his own demons come to torture him at night, if Ed’s dreams are as painful and full of fear as his own.

Roy carefully sits on the bed near the young man and reaches to take hold of his automail hand - Ed needs to be woken up, but Roy knows too well that his reaction to someone intruding during his nightmare can be violent, and at least he wants to avoid the damage Ed’s automail can deal him.

“Edward?” Roy tries but to no avail.

Ed doesn’t react to Roy’s hand on his metal one of course, Roy doubts he can feel that much with his automail, especially while in a deep sleep.

“Edward, you need to wake up.”

Ed moans and his right hand twitches under Roy’s hold.

“Why― Al! no, please― Give him back!.. No, that’s not… Al!”

Roy puts his other hand on Ed’s flesh shoulder, shakes a bit and tries again.

“Edward, wake up!” he says louder than before.

Ed’s eyes fly wide open, he gasps and sits up in the bed, grabbing Roy’s arm with his flesh hand, clenching his fingers around it with such force, Roy thinks he’d break some of his bones, if it was his automail hand. Which is now trying to break free from Roy’s grasp.

Ed’s eyes are unfocused and the pupils are dilated and Roy can hardly see the thin golden circles around them. He is quivering and breathing hard looking at Roy but not seeing, still reliving his nightmare. And this empty unfocused stare, and the animalistic fear lurking in the depth of it sends shivers down Roy’s spine and for a breathless moment of horror he sees the shadow of the broken man from last night in these eyes, and a cold hand digs its fingernails in his heart, and Roy tightens his grip on Ed’s shoulder, trying to convince himself that these eyes belong to a 17-year-old Ed rather than his shaken broken much older self.

“Edward? Ed, do you hear me? It’s me,” Roy says forcing the words through the lump in his throat.

With a visible struggle Ed finally focuses his eyes on Roy’s and scowls.

“Mustang? What―” he trails off and swallows.

“You had a nightmare. I heard you talking in your sleep and came to wake you up,” he releases Ed’s automail, but the blond doesn’t move. He stopped shivering under Roy’s hand on his shoulder, but the man can still feel slight trembles in Ed’s fingers, holding Roy’s arm in a tight grip.

“Yeah, right. I…” Ed averts his eyes and looks at his hand on Roy’s arm. He hesitates for a moment and slowly removes it and lowers it on his lap. “Yeah.. I’m… fine now. Thanks.”

Being so focused on his worries about his dream shattering into a million pieces right before his eyes, Roy didn’t even notice how his previous intention to protect Ed from the burden the knowledge of such a future can be for him, shifted first to a fear of letting him see Roy’s future failure, and then vanished completely. And lost in thoughts of doom Roy let Ed pull him back to the light, not even realising that he himself became a burden for the young man. How could Roy be so selfish in his inner struggles? How could he forget that Ed also has his own limits, his own demons, his own doubts? No matter how tough this young man wanted to seem for the world, there have been moments, just like this one, when Roy was looking at Ed only to see a crippled worn out child with empty lifeless eyes. And he could only guess what it costs Ed to get out of bed every morning and smile to the world with his bright wide grin, while bearing the ghost of that child inside him, and go to bed every day to fight the same demons that tried to drain him the night before.

Roy had let himself descend to a pathetic shadow of his former self, and Ed, this ever so evolving vibrant man, this glimpse of light in the void of what has been Roy’s life, not only took well what Roy had told him and even managed to see positive sides to it, but found the will and strength to make Roy see it too.

Guilt and regrets start coiling in the dip of his stomach.

_...You don’t even have to ask._

Did Ed even realise the full weight of such words when he said them? Did he even realise how much it meant for Roy to hear him say that, despite what they learnt? Ed wasn’t even a little bit disappointed when Roy told him about his future failure as Fuhrer, it didn’t even shake his belief in the man.

_I’ll see you to the top no matter what._

And this belief in Roy, that he will make a good Fuhrer for this country, was absolutely priceless and so much more than Roy had hoped to ever receive from this brilliant young man. And at this moment, as he is looking at Ed sitting beside him, shoulders hunched, looking so small and vulnerable in just his tank top, messy hair sticking to the sides and partly covering his face, Roy has to fight the urge to reach out again and enfold Ed in his arms, to comfort, to protect, and Roy promises himself he will do whatever he can, he will do _anything_ , to never betray the trust Ed put in him. And this makes Roy slide his hand in his pocket and brush his fingers along the ring there. If until this moment just the idea that this could be possible, that they can become something more than friends, was unthinkable and alien, now he realises that just during this one day they have both opened up to each other more than during the last several years, and Roy hopes that he is not the only one who feels their connection strengthening.

“Are you sure you’re ok? Do you need anything?” Roy asks and he is ready to do anything to drive away this haunted look in Ed’s eyes. “I can bring you some water if you want. I probably won’t go back to sleep tonight anyway.”

“Ah, no, thanks...” Ed answers, but Roy can see that something is still troubling him. “Actually... what time is it now? Can I use your phone?”

“Um.. I believe it’s around 4 a.m. now,” Roy answers, slightly surprised at the request. “The phone is in the hall downstairs,” he adds, and stands up.

Ed untangles his legs from the comforter, gets up from the bed and rushes past Roy, automail foot tapping loudly at the floor. Roy hears him jumping over the steps on his way downstairs and wonders if he is allowed to follow, genuinely worried about what has startled Ed so much, but not wishing to intrude on what might be a personal conversation with whomever it is Ed is going to call.

He leaves the room and stops at the top of the stairs looking from above as Ed presses the receiver to his ear and starts tapping nervously with his metal fingers on his thigh.

“Winry?”

**~~~**

Ed is nervous as he dials, loathe to wake his brother in the middle of the night, but he can’t _not_ call, not after dreaming of a slightly metallic voice fading to nothing, not after spending the day learning the future itself may be a nightmare. He needs to know the past at least was sort-of fixed.

Ever since they were kids, Al had always been at Ed’s side, he always was the one to drag him from the dark pits of his nightmares. And now, when they both have their own lives, Ed has had to learn fast how to deal with his terrors by himself, and he never feels as scared and lonely as during those nights.

But even if this time is different and he woke up to the worried stare of dark eyes and the feeling of a warm hand on his shoulder, it is still not enough to calm his troubled mind, and he _needs_ to hear his brother’s voice.

First ring, and that’s ok, Ed pictures the not-quite-awake-yet Al sorting his first confused thoughts - was it the alarm-clock or the phone? Second ring, and Ed imagines his brother rushing to the phone to silence the shrill tone. Third ring, and Ed tries to remember where their phone is, but the layout of the house keeps evading him. Fourth ring, and Ed’s fingers are tapping nervously on his leg, as he is trying not to let the first surges of panic deprive him of his hard-won composure. Fifth ring and then the phone is finally answered by a groggy but feminine voice.

“Garfiel’s automail, how can I help you?” Right, he forgot their rooms were above the workshop.

“Winry?” Ed grips the phone just a little tighter and hears soft steps behind him. He turns to look above his shoulder and sees Mustang stopping at the top of the stairs, watching him but not coming closer, giving Ed some space.

“Ed? What’s the matter?” the voice in his ear is a bit more awake and alarmed as she goes on without waiting, “It’s ass-o’clock in the fucking night - who’s dead? Are you hurt?”

Ed bits back a true but slightly hysterical answer in the interest of _not_ spending the whole night on the phone.

“No one’s dead, and I’m fine too,” he answers, suddenly struck by the memory of the same words said to him by Mustang through this very phone just a night ago, and he suppresses a bitter chuckle at the irony of this situation. And what does it say about his usual calls that it’s so obviously Winry’s first guess. “I just really, really need to speak to Al. Is he there?”

“Of course. I’ll get him - be right back.” Her voice softened a bit in concern.

Ed sighs as he waits, trying to remember to breathe slow and easy.

“Brother?”

His brother’s voice. Alright, slightly metallic, but the kind of scratchy metallic that’s due to being on the phone, without the echoing quality of his voice as a living armour. Ed finally release his breath in one go, feeling the heavy weight on his shoulders disappear.

“Al. You’re alright.”

“Ed. What happened?” Concern, kindness, caring - Ed could keep on aligning synonyms, but they all mean that he wants to wrap himself in that voice instead of blankets to sleep.

“Nothing happened. I’m sorry I woke you. It’s just, you know… The usual.”

Al definitely knows. He witnessed enough of his nightmares during his sleepless nights at his brother’s side - he likely has his own, now that he has the ability to sleep back, both a relief and a curse.

“One of those? I’m alright, brother. And I don’t mind you waking me - the cat might resent you, though, she was on my side of the blanket.” He actually keeps on for a while, describing his cat, what he had for dinner, who he met yesterday, what he saw in town  - complete with the detailed descriptions of smells, and Ed doesn’t even notice the time, but after just a few minutes, he can hear a yawn, and remembers the hour.

“Al, I’m sorry, I’m fine, really” And it’s even true, now. “I don’t want to keep you from your sleep.”

“It’s alright” He can hear his brother’s smile on the line. “I’ll call you next weekend, if you want? Where are you staying? Do you have a number?”

Ed stammers a few seconds, thrown by the question.

“I don’t know, wait…”

He turns towards Mustang, who lifts an eyebrow in silent question, and then the sound of Al’s next words makes him realise too late that he just made a horrible mistake.

“What, you don’t remember the name of your hotel?” Ed can almost hear his brother perking in interest despite his tiredness.

_Shit..._

**~~~**

“Of course I do! I just...I’m not… there at the moment.”

Roy watches amused as Ed suddenly turns his back to him, but not fast enough to hide a faint blush on his cheeks.

“Um, well... You see, Mustang asked my help with something so we’ve been brainstorming all day and….” Roy can’t hear what Al is telling Ed, but whatever it is, it makes Ed sound nervous and defensive. “What? No, I’m at his house now… No, Al! No, he couldn’t, it’s sort of confidential… Well, not like _that_ confidential…” he lets in too much irritation in his voice for it to be genuine, and Roy really wishes he could hear the other side of this conversation.

“Well what can I do, I didn’t sleep last night on the train!.. Oh my god, Al, no!..” Ed screams and runs his hand through his bangs, visibly frustrated. “What?! _What exactly is Garfiel  teaching you there?!_ .. No! Shut up, Al! I’m hanging up!.. Oh god, I can’t believe my own little brother is telling me this! _Good bye, Al!_ ”

He smashes the receiver back on the phone and mutters something quietly under his breath. He folds his arms on his chest still standing with his back to Roy.

“Everything is fine, Edward?” Roy asks, still not moving from his spot on the stairs.

Ed sighs,  squares his shoulders and unfolds his arms.

“Yeah, it’s fine. Just Al being his usual smart ass,” he says crankily turning to face Roy.

Ed looks up and as his eyes fix on the man, his breath hitches and he swallows nervously.

“You look fucking stupid like that,” he says pointing at Roy with his hand.

“I beg your pardon?” Roy answers, confused.

“Your fucking gloves, Mustang,” Ed says averting his eyes and fixing them on the wall in front of him.

“Yes, what is it with my gloves, Edward?”

“You look stupid wearing them when you have only pants on, that’s it,” he explains, turns away again and starts walking down the hall.

**~~~**

As he reaches the kitchen, he hears Mustang start laughing lightly.

The truth is, he looks fucking hot.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“Every day I consider myself a lucky man that my path has crossed with yours, Ed. You are the most stunning and brilliant person I’ve ever met. Do you even know how gorgeous and beautiful you are, body and soul, Ed? Do you even know what you are doing to me, Ed?..“_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, look at this, the rating has changed - I wonder why! ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)
> 
> I have a confession: this chapter was written long before the 1st one was even posted ahaha  
> But if you say, that I wrote all this story just for this chapter, it will be a lie, _lie_ , **_lie_** xD
> 
> Enjoy! =)
> 
> (This chapter is betaed by Himeneka as always - thank you, thank you, thank you ^_^)

A glass of water helped Ed to cool off a bit after talking with Al. It did manage to drive away all the remnants of his nightmare, yes, but his comments about Ed staying at Mustang’s made Ed regret that his brother was so perceptive - little brat knew about Ed’s crush long before Ed himself realised it. And then this Bastard standing there with his bare chest and those fucking gloves on made Ed’s blood fucking boil. So irresponsible… Fucking Bastard.

Ed finds him in the living room and stops in the doorway, observing the man. Mustang is sitting on the couch, leaning down with his elbows on his knees, watching the fire in the hearth. He apparently put a loose white t-shirt on before heading downstairs and Ed lets out a breath not sure if he feels relieved or more like disappointed about it.

Ed starts slowly crossing the room to the couch. His steps are muffled by the thick carpet on the floor but he is sure the other man can hear him approaching. Ed sits on the couch carefully, leaving some space between him and Mustang, not wishing to intrude.

“Hey,” Ed says quietly, watching the man beside him. White scars in the middle of Mustang’s palms catch his attention and he realises that since the Promised Day when the man received these marks, Ed has never seen him without his gloves. Those white gloves with the red arrays seem to be an inseparable element of the image Mustang presented to the world. And seeing his now naked hands feels almost intimate.

Ed swallows around a lump in his throat and averts his eyes, moving his attentions towards the fire in front of him. 

He waits for the man to answer or to indicate somehow if his presence is welcome, but Mustang says nothing. 

They sit there in a silence filled with the quiet, soothing cracks of burning wood. After a few minutes, when Ed thinks that he should probably leave, he hears  a heavy exhale from Mustang which makes him look up at the man beside him again. Mustang leans on the back of the couch and runs his hands through his hair, making them stick up in different directions. It gives him an even more domestic look, and the thought that Ed is allowed to see the man without all his barriers, settles a warm feeling in the young man’s chest, and he allows himself to smile.

“Sorry about… that I wake you up” Ed says quietly. “I should’ve gone to the hotel.” 

“It’s alright, Edward,” Mustang answers, turning his head and meeting Ed’s eyes. He smiles lightly, but his gaze is intense, eyes moving along Ed’s face, like he is trying to imprint what he sees in his memory. Ed lets him do this for a while before he starts to feel his cheeks heating up under such attention. He looks away trying not to feel the gaze burning through his skin. “I have nightmares too,” Ed hears Mustang saying. “So I… I know how important it is that someone wakes you up from them.”

“Yeah, it had always been Al, but since I got his body back we… Well, he has his own life. So, thank you, I guess,” Ed says wondering who pulls Mustang from his nightmares, somehow doubting that the man who lives his life behind masks would allow his numerous one-night stands to see him in such a vulnerable state. The thought that the man wakes up from his nightmares to an empty house, with nobody at his side to assure him that whatever he just saw was a product of his troubled mind, makes Ed’s heart ache in his chest with sympathy. 

He doesn’t ask or comment on it anyhow. But the intensity with which Mustang has been looking at him during several times this day and just a moment ago, and some of his comments, turned his thoughts to what he has been wondering in his head since Mustang told him that he saw Ed’s future self. He is curious about it. Who wouldn’t?

“Tell me more about him.”

“I think I told you everything. What is it you want to know?”

“You’ve never commented much about his appearance.”

Ed hears Mustang taking in a shaky breath and feels the intense gaze disappearing. He lets himself glance to the side only to see the other man closing his eyes. There is a frown between his brows and Ed has to force his hands to stay where they are on his laps instead of reaching out to run his fingers at the man’s forehead.

“He looked exhausted. Haunted, even,” the man starts slowly, eyes still closed, and Ed sees their corners twitch a bit as if the man is reliving an unpleasant memory. Ed wonders if he just managed to ruin the semi-calm mood that settled in after his talk with Al.

“I knew instantly it was you, and yet something was missing. And then he started talking about all those people he’d lost, and I saw a broken man. There was no life or desire to live in his eyes, not anymore, and I suppose that’s what hit me the most, seeing your eyes so lifeless, without their usual light, without the fire you always…” Mustang suddenly trails off and opens his eyes and Ed catches a faint trace of fear running across his face. It disappears too fast, replaced with his more usual blank expression, and Ed realises the fear he saw was not caused by recalling the words his future self had said to the man, but by the words that have slipped from Mustang’s mouth just a moment ago.

Ed finds it hard to breathe, and the space between him and the man now looking at him with an unreadable but not entirely closed expression, suddenly feels not wide enough, and he hopes that the light coming from the fireplace is too low to reveal his heated cheeks.

Mustang talks about fire in Ed’s eyes like it is the most normal thing in the world, like he’s looked close enough and long enough to even think about some other characterisation for Ed’s eyes rather than just noting their color, which Ed secretly dislikes, as it reminds him of his bastard-father.

Ed doesn’t know what to think of it, as before today he had never even considered the possibility of Mustang being interested in his personality, and  _ especially  _ his looks, enough to even remember something other than simple “he is short and blond”.  Some comments here and there from yesterday’s conversation made him more acquainted with the idea that his feelings  _ might be _ reciprocated  _ in the future _ , but hearing Mustang here and now praising Ed’s eyes is not something the young man is ready to.

The silence is stretching for too long and Mustang keeps just looking at Ed with something like curiosity in the depths of his dark piercing eyes, and Ed hears his own voice asking hoarsely before he can even realise what he is saying:

“The fire I always what?..”

And Ed doesn’t know what shocks him more at this moment: the way his own voice sounds, the very fact that he is for some reason letting this conversation to take such a turn instead of, as he always does, calling Mustang a bastard and then storming off, or the way Mustang’s eyes widen and then instantly narrow at the sound of his question.

The man answers instantly, as if he was just waiting for Ed’s permission, and his voice is low and deep and it sends shivers down Ed’s spine, and the heat from his cheeks spreads down to his chest making his breaths come short and shallow.

“The fire you always have in your eyes, Edward. The incandescent fire, pouring through your every move, your every word, enrapturing the people whose lives you’ve touched. The fire, which is making you so unique and fierce, and impossible to forget.”

Mustang is looking at him with his lips slightly tilted in the corners and his head cocked a bit to the side, visibly waiting for Ed’s reaction. Ed swallows with some effort, his face is burning and there is no way Mustang doesn’t see it.

Ed is not an idiot, he is almost eighteen now and he spent the last year catching up to what he’d missed during his teenage years, too busy looking for a way to get his brother’s body back, and he happened to spend some of his evenings with other people rather than with books. So he of course realises what is going on right now. 

But yet hearing Mustang flirting with him is too surreal to comprehend in a matter of seconds required to react accordingly at the other man’s approach. Just a few hours have passed since he started to consider that there can be some future where they are more than just friends (and come to think of it, he’s never even considered them friends per se). And it was not enough to let go of his long-held conviction that his little crush (which, he has to admit, has been getting less and less little with every passing year instead of disappearing like crushes are supposed to do) can not be reciprocated in any way. And as a result here Ed is, sitting at arm’s length from the man he’s painfully wanted since his body has learnt what it meant, and all he can do now is simply hoping that Mustang can’t hear the thumps of his racing heart in the quiet of the night.

The pause is stretching again and Ed can’t bear to keep looking in Mustang’s dark eyes. He blinks, draws in a long breath and closes his eyes to give himself a little break and collect his racing thoughts.

And then he feels warm fingers, running through his bangs, brushing his cheekbones lightly,  trailing down across his jaw, thumb curling over his chin - and every nerve in Ed’s body is dazzling with electricity from this touch, and his eyes fly open, and meet the dark ones, once again, and Mustang is suddenly so close that Ed can almost taste the words fading out from his lips, soft and quiet, and so  _ fond,  _ that it makes Ed wonder if these lips would taste like chocolate if he kissed them right now.

“Every day I consider myself a lucky man that my path has crossed with yours, Ed. You are the most stunning and brilliant person I’ve ever met. Do you even know how gorgeous and beautiful you are, body and soul, Ed? Do you even know what you are doing to me, Ed?..“

And he should hate this, he should call the man “mushy” and “bastard”, this should not be so good to hear, this should not fuel the heat in his chest even more, and he  _ will _ hate himself later for the flutter in his stomach, for the way his knees start slightly trembling from the effort he puts into not thrusting both his hands into Mustang’s hair, pulling him closer to attack his mouth with a fierce kiss… But that will be later, and now Ed forgets how to breath and his head is spinning and he blames it on the heat radiating from the other man’s body.

And there is a yearning in Mustangs eyes, and Ed’s breath catches in his throat, and when Mustang brushes his thumb along Ed’s chin and asks, almost whisper, voice low and deep, with rough edges that flicker through every nerve in Ed’s body: “May I kiss you, Ed?”, Ed hears a faint sound that horribly resembles a quiet moan escaping his own mouth, which would be embarrassing any other time, but Ed can’t make himself care right now, and he sees Mustang’s eyes widen for a moment at this sound, and there is a hunger in them now, fierce and burning, and even if Ed wanted he wouldn’t be able to speak now, so he does the only thing that would be clear as the answer itself - he grabs Mustang’s shirt’s collar with both his hands, and closes the remaining inches between their mouths. 

And as he feels warm soft lips on his, he hears one of them making a strangled noise and he is not sure who, but he doesn’t care. Mustang brushes his lips along Ed’s gently, and Ed feels dizzy at the sensation, at the mere thought that it is Roy fucking Mustang kissing him right now, and he can’t remember if his previous encounters made Ed feel  _ like that _ just from the kiss.

Mustang’s lips taste like whiskey and something else which is specifically him, and Ed thinks he has never tasted anything better in his life. 

His head is reeling, his heart is beating somewhere in his throat and Ed feels Mustang’s heartbeat matching his in intensity under his left hand laying palm flat on the man’s chest.

He stops the kiss and moves his head a bit back, pausing when their lips are just barely touching, and opens his eyes to meet Mustang’s dark ones. Ed feels faint touches of warm breath on his lips, and he has never thought a simple kiss can feel so intimate and erotic.

“Ed...” he hears and  _ feels _ Mustang whisper against his lips and the hand which has been cupping his jaw, trails further to the back of Ed’s head, and as Ed feels the light pressure of it, fingers digging in the sensitive skin there, he presses his mouth to Mustang’s again and bites his lower lip, making the man gasp, and Ed uses it to push his tongue in his mouth. 

This kiss is nothing like the previous one - it is neither gentle, nor soft. Ed pours all the tension and want to this man cumulated in him over the years in this kiss.  Ed always throws himself so wholeheartedly into whatever he does and this time is not any different.

Mustang growls, sound low from the deep of his chest, his other hand is on Ed’s hip, pulling him closer, Ed’s shaking hands are tracing patterns all over Mustang’s chest, pressing, touching, enjoying the heat coming through the thin layer of the shirt, enjoying the feeling that he  _ can _ do this, he is  _ allowed _ to.

The kiss is wet and sloppy, tongues are flicking around each other, pressing deep, desperately trying to get more sensation, more taste, and never getting enough. Both men are breathing hard through their noses, occasionally sucking in some air through the gaps between their mouths.

Ed is lost in this moment as he has never been before. His head is spinning, his heart is pounding hard in his chest, Mustang’s lips wet and hot on his, his tongue pressing against Ed’s, hungry and demanding, his hand on the back of his head, and another one caressing the line of his skin on his hip are sending heat waves down his body to his groin. There are no thoughts left in his head except that he wants, he  _ needs  _ this man.

And when Mustang starts sucking in the tip of his tongue, Ed moans loudly, breaks the kiss for a moment only to push himself up from where he is sitting to straddle the other man’s lap. He lets himself a moment to take in a completely besotted expression on Mustang’s face, and leans in for another kiss.

Every move of Mustangs lips on Ed’s is sending sparkles of electricity in every cell of Ed’s body and he can swear he hears them  _ humming _ in pleasure.

Ed moves his hips pressing them forward, keening for more - more sensation, more touches, more heat of this body under him, and he can finally feel Mustang’s hard erection pressing against his own, and this evokes a low groan of need from the older man’s throat and the sound of it makes Ed’s spine curve.

Ed’s hands trail down Mustang’s chest and stomach, reaching for the hem of his shirt, but as soon as Ed curls his fingers to dig beneath the fabric, to touch the skin underneath, warm hands suddenly stop their tracing on Ed’s back and hips and grip his shoulders stopping him in his approach. 

The blond looks up at the other man, feeling a bit surprised, but too lost in the thick fog of lust that is filling him, to even question the man’s actions. Ed bucks his hips, dragging a hitched half breath half moan from Mustang’s lips, and once again leans in to steal another kiss from the man’s swollen with attention lips.

But Mustang tightens his grip on Ed’s shoulders and stops him on his track, and before Ed can voice any objections, says with a hoarse voice that goes straight to Ed’s cock, making it twitch just from the sound of it, and he has to make himself concentrate on the words:

“Wait, Ed, we should stop now or I won’t be able to stop at all.”

“Good”, Ed manages, hoping that it was the right answer but not really caring much at the moment - he wants this so badly that it feels as if he may actually die if he is forced to stop. He leans forward and plants a wet kiss under Mustang’s jaw, and the man makes a strangled noise.

“No, Ed, listen to me, I just don’t think it’s the right time. I want to do this properly”, despite his words, his grip on Ed’s shoulders is getting weaker, but this maybe be because Ed is trailing his tongue along Mustangs collarbone, thankful for the loose shirt’s collar.

“Not a girl, Mustang, don’t need to romance me, I’m already sitting on your lap, with my dick hard, if you haven’t noticed”, Ed answers between biting and sucking to the skin on Mustang’s neck. He starts feeling annoyed to be forced to collect his crazing brain cells in some semi-order enough for producing words with more than one syllable.

“That is not what I meant, Ed,” the Bastard sure talks too much. “I just want this to…”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake!” Ed straightens up and smashes his palm on Mustang’s mouth cutting off the rest of the phrase. He takes a deep breath trying not to feel too frustrated. “Let me be clear and cover the majority of those stupid questions and other stupid shit you probably want to discuss for some reason  _ right now _ ,” and he bucks his hips again, rubbing their groins together, as if indicating the inappropriateness of the moment for a conversation like that or any conversations at all. “Not a girl. Not a virgin. And yes, I want this and I’ve had more than enough time to make sure of it. So,  _ please, _ shut up and fuck me”.

Mustang’s eyes widen, and as his hands trail down from Ed’s shoulders back to his hips, Ed removes his hand from Mustang’s mouth.

“How long exactly is ‘enough time’?” Mustang asks caressing Ed’s skin between his tank top and the waistband of his pants.

“Long enough for you not to worry about it. Now which word in ‘shut up’ did you not fucking understand?” Ed answers leaning in to cover Mustang’s mouth with his, wondering if he can ever have enough of this heated kisses.

But as soon as his lips touch Mustang’s, the man grips his hips and Ed feels being lifted in the air and before he can understand what is happening, he is lying on his back on the couch, Mustang above him, between his legs, leaning down and catching Ed’s lips in a wet hungry kiss.

**~~~**

Ed is  _ intoxicating.  _

This is nothing like anything Roy has ever experienced and he can hardly compare it with any of his previous encounters, as it is the first time when the person he is kissing, touching, is the one he is in love with, and Roy finally understands, what Maes meant telling him that even the most heated sex with a stranger has nothing against what you feel kissing the person you love. 

But the young man himself who is now curving his back trying to press himself even closer to Roy, is nothing less than extraordinary. Wasn’t it Roy who was comparing him with fire just a few moments ago? And fire he is: fierce, hot,  _ devouring  _ and greedy, and like any fire - untamable. But Roy wouldn’t be the Flame Alchemist if he wasn’t the one who made control over fire his very speciality.

Does Ed even know what effect he has on Roy? Can he even guess what seeing him like this does to Roy? Lying under him, heat radiating from his body, pink cheeks, lips swollen, red from attention and wet with the mix of their saliva, amber eyes flickering with burning want, and the mere thought that this gorgeous young man wants  _ him,  _ looks like that for  _ him _ , demanding  _ his  _ touch,  _ his _ attention, makes Roy’s head spin.

He is leaning over Ed, one hand on the couch near the blond’s head to support his weight, the other is stroking young man’s thigh, from where the flesh leg meets the metal, and trailing up to squeeze Ed’s ass through the thin layer of pajama pants he borrowed from Roy earlier that night, just to move further to his hip and up to dip beneath Ed’s tank top, enjoying the touch of hairs on the man’s lower stomach and contracting of his muscles there at the touch of Roy’s fingers. Ed makes rough noise of appreciation, bucks his hips towards Roy’s erection and starts slowly grinding against it.

Roy sucks in a breath and leans down to trace the side of Ed’s neck with his tongue, making Ed’s breaths sound even more harsher, and keeps exploring the skin underneath his hand with gentle touches. No matter what Ed has told him, Roy still wants to make this special. And if perhaps for Ed this is nothing beyond the ordinary, or as he tries to make it seem that way, it is for sure special for Roy, and the man wants this moment to last longer, he wants to make it not only about passion and resolving sexual tension, but about learning every inch of Ed’s body. He wants to show the young man how valuable this is for Roy, that he is allowed to touch this fire in the human form, that he is wanted by it, by Ed. He wants to show his appreciation and show the blond that he is loved and wanted, he wants to worship him like he is supposed to be worshiped. 

Roy’s tongue and lips keep trailing hot wet kisses on the skin of Ed’s neck, sliding once in awhile up to tease a delicate ear, earning quiet sobs and whimpers from the blond. Roy can feel his racing heartbeat underneath his palm on Ed’s chest. His fingers find a hard bud of Ed’s nipple and start playing with it, brushing it softly with the fingertips only to squeeze it hard the next moment. Ed moans and this sound goes straight to Roy’s cock, and he feels his resolve to take it slow weakening with every brush of Ed’s erection against his. Roy wants this man beneath him so badly, it begins to physically hurt. 

“Don’t… tease… you.. ah! Bastard!” Ed manages to husk between shallow breaths.

Roy releases Ed’s nipple and removes his hand from under Ed’s tank top only to bring it up to Ed’s lips. He strokes Ed’s lower lip with his thumb mesmerized by the satin softness of it and then locks his eyes with Ed’s, flickers of the fire in fireplace reflecting in the dark with want pupils.

“You are so beautiful, Ed,” he murmurs and covers Ed’s half open mouth with his. Ed immediately loops his arms around his neck pulling him closer, tongues meet, lips dancing against each other. Roy grinds with his hips between Ed’s, and swallows the whimper which falls from the blond man’s mouth. 

He breaks the kiss abruptly, realising not without a surprise, that if they continue like that he can actually come just from the grind of their cocks through the thin cloth of their pants. Ed makes a weak protest sound, which cuts itself short as soon as Roy slides down the couch from the greedy grip of Ed’s hands around the back of his neck, his hands clutching blond man’s hips, and he rubs the tip of his nose at the hot skin of Ed’s stomach and along the thin line of blond hairs which disappear beneath the waistband of his pajama pants, breathing him in.

“Lose the shirt”, Roy says without looking up, nuzzling the sensitive skin near the Ed’s hipbone, before biting lightly. 

“Fuck, Mustang..” Ed actually sobs and Roy can see his cock twitch beneath the fabric of the pants. 

Roy keeps teasing the blond’s stomach with hot kisses and he feels the man wiggle. The muffled sound of the cloth falling to the floor indicates that Ed has finished taking off his shirt. Roy looks up and forgets how to breath at a view before him. Ed is beautiful,  _ radiant _ . Strong muscular body, chest contracting with heavy breaths, blond hair lying in a perfect mess around his head, skin covered with white scars and even metal of automail arm, which most people would probably find repelling, add in to the ravishing image before Roy’s eyes. And he doesn’t know how he deserved it and he smiles brightly to his own thoughts, drinking in the view in front of him, trying to seal it in his memory.

“What are you waiting for, Mustang?” there are frustrated notes between the rough edges of Ed’s hoarse voice and the beginning of a frown between his brows. He puts both of his hands on Roy’s ones on his hips and squeezes.

“Perhaps for you to stop calling me Mustang when I’m about to give you the blowjob of your life.”

Ed’s eyes widen and he swallows hard.

“Fuck, Roy...”

And as soon as the sound of his name rolls off of Ed’s tongue, Roy tugs down both Ed’s pants and boxers, revealing his hard cock dark with all the blood filling it, and licks along its shaft. 

“Oh god,” Ed moans and his flesh hand moves to lay on the back of Roy’s head. The man expects him to grip his hair there, but warm fingers just brushing lightly.

Roy lets himself tease Ed, making a few more too soft licks along his cock, and then takes tight hold on Ed’s hips and takes his cock in his mouth. 

Ed gasps, Roy relaxes his throat and then swallows, Ed  _ howls _ , and Roy thinks that he is ready to give Ed head for the rest of his miserable life if only he can hear him making sounds like  _ that.  _ His own neglected throbbing cock highly disagrees with him on the matter, but he refuses to touch himself until he sees Ed break to pieces from the pleasure he intends to give him.

He is gripping Ed’s hip with one hand hard enough to leave bruises and moves another to stroke his balls lightly. Roy hollows his cheeks, sliding his mouth up and down Ed’s hard length, lips tight around it, swirling his tongue around. The air is filled with Ed’s heavy panting and filthy wet sounds. Roy feels the hand on the back of his head trembling as fingers clutch his hair, pushing and pulling him. 

Roy lets his lips make a wet pop sound when he removes his mouth from Ed’s cock, replacing it with his hand instead. He tunnels his fingers around the hard length, stroking hard but slowly, and lowers his head to trace the sensitive skin between Ed’s balls and a thigh with his tongue. 

“Fuck… Roy, I..ah.. if you keep doing that I’m gonna cum soon!”

“That’s the point”, Roy answers between sucking carefully skin on Ed’s balls. 

“No.. wait! Fuck!” Ed tugs at Roy’s hair making the man look up at him. “Fuck, Roy, I don’t want just a blowjob!”

Roy narrows his eyes at him and licks his lips, noting with satisfaction that Ed follows the motion with his eyes. He smiles at the young man, not stopping the lazy strokes on his cock, and locking his gaze with Ed’s says in a low voice:

“Who said we are going to stop after that? Or I am mistaken and you can’t come twice in one night, Ed?”

“Oh, fuck…” Ed sucks in a harsh breath and pushes Roy’s head down again. Roy lets out a short laugh and takes Ed in his mouth again, now sucking harder than before, enjoying the weight of Ed’s cock on his tongue, the way it presses to the back of his throat, twitching. He reaches with one hand up to Ed’s chest to pinch the nipple there and Ed curves his back at the feeling. 

“Ah… Roy… fuck…”

Ed’s cock tenses between Roy’s lips, and with a loud moan Ed is coming in his mouth. Roy groans, swallowing, nearly coming himself, and sucks lightly a couple more times listening to Ed’s heavy breaths and enjoying the light trembling of his body. And when the strong hand is tugging at his hair again, he releases Ed’s softening cock from his mouth and lets the young man pull him into a messy kiss. 

Ed tastes like pleasure. Roy tastes like Ed and he is surprised at the effort with which Ed’s tongue licks inside his mouth, trying to brush against every inch of it, tasting his own cum on Roy’s tongue. 

Ed’s body is relaxed beneath his, but he can’t ignore his own want any longer. He breaks the kiss, not without some effort rescues his hair from Ed’s fists, and stands up from the couch. 

The view from up where he is standing now is glorious, and if not for the discomfort of his neglected cock, he’d just stand there forever, looking at the beautiful young body sprawling on his couch. 

Ed looks up at him with a question in his eyes and slowly raises up to a sitting position. 

“Now what? Want me to return the favor or..?”

Roy extends his hand to him and answers: “No, Ed. Now we are going upstairs to my bedroom where in all the comfort my bed provides I will finally fuck you.” 

“Oh fuck yes”, Ed says hoarsely, licking his lips and rushing up on his feet ignoring Roy’s hand. He is the one who leads the way to the stairs and Roy is following. And the man is not even surprised, because with Ed you should just accept how things are instead of struggling trying to fight against this dazzling force which is Ed. 

Roy takes off his shirt once they enter the bedroom, grabs Ed across his waist and throws him on the bed. The young man whimpers but doesn’t show his protest any other way, instead pulling off his pants and boxers and sprawls on Roy’s bed looking at him with once again blooming hunger in his eyes. 

“You are overclothed”, he says, and Roy is happy to finally tug his own pants down and step out of them, and the way Ed is looking at him now is a number three among the most favorite Ed’s looks in Roy’s list, right after Ed’s post blowjob face, and the first place is reserved, as Roy hopes, for Ed’s face after being thoroughly fucked. 

He opens a bedside drawer, takes a tube of lube from it and tosses it on the bed. Ed follows the item with curious eyes and Roy wonders if Ed’s previous statement of him not being a virgin, extends to what they are going to do now, and perhaps he should’ve thought about this earlier but now he is too long gone to stop.

“You are so beautiful, Ed”, he can’t help himself from saying again as he is looking at the man before him. 

“Not a girl, Roy”, Ed frowns and this makes Roy smile at him.

“Don’t have to be a girl to be beautiful”, he answers as he sits on a bed beside Ed and leans down to plant a trail of soft kisses along Ed’s chest, down his stomach and to the inner side of his thigh.

“Lie on your stomach for me, Ed”, Roy says stroking the skin near the automail port on the man’s left thigh.

Ed does as asked and Roy takes one of the pillows from the bed and puts it under the blond’s hips. He spreads his legs and crawls on the bed between them. 

Roy can’t see Ed’s face but from the pattern of his breathing it’s not hard to guess that the young man is getting impatient. Roy puts his hands on Ed’s ass cheeks, squeezes lightly and then leans down and places a light test lick with his tongue on the blond man’s entrance. And as he has expected, Ed whimpers with surprise and tries to wobble his way out of the other man’s grip on his hips, but with little success.

“What the fuck are you doing, Bastard!” Ed screams instead trying to look over his shoulder at Roy.

“Aren’t we past last names already, Ed?” Roy asks with a chuckle.

“Not when you are doing some weird shit with my ass!” Ed wobbles a little more but to no avail.

“Doing weird shit with your ass is the whole reason we are now both naked in my bed, Ed. Unless you want to take the lead?..” Roy loosens his grip on Ed’s hips noticing not without satisfaction the red marks his fingers left there, and begins stroking soothing circles on Ed’s ass and lower back. He expects him to roll over, but Ed doesn’t move.

“Yes! No... I mean, yes, it’s the whole reason and shit, and no, I don’t wanna take the lead. It’s just…”

Roy takes in a deep breath and closes his eyes, while his hands keep tracing gentle patterns on Ed’s skin.

“I know you said you were not a virgin, Ed. But have you had anal sex before?”

The body under his palms moves and he opens his eyes to be met with Ed’s angry stare from behind the curtain of blond hairs which are doing very little to hide the intense blush on the young man’s cheeks.

“Dammit, Roy, yes! I just wasn’t expecting you to fucking lick it! This is weird!”

“I am willing to prove to you that along with being weird this can also be very enjoyable, if you just let me, Ed”, Roy says and smiles.

Ed is not answering right away, and Roy thinks this might be the longest pause in his entire life, but then he averts his eyes and Roy hears the word muffled by a pillow under Ed’s face:

“Fine.”

And Roy’s hands are once again gripping Ed’s cheeks, spreading them, and he licks his way along the perineum to Ed’s entrance and traces the rim with his tongue. He waits for the man to start relaxing as he gently massaging his hips, and sinks his tongue in. Ed releases a quiet moan and Roy takes it as a sign that he is enjoying this despite his own prejudices against such an action. 

Soon enough Ed starts grinding slowly against the pillow under his hips, letting out the most delicious little moans at every move of Roy’s tongue, and the man can’t deny that he is slightly surprised, but not unhappy, by how fast Ed managed to relax under his touch, ready to trust him with his body like that, even though this is their first time together. And Roy feels the wave of warmth and love crashing at him, and he hopes he can make Ed feel how loved he is without actually saying the words.

He reaches his hand to take a bottle of lube from where it is lying on the bed and pours a little amount of the liquid in his palm. He spreads it on his fingers and presses one at the Ed’s entrance. But as he wants to push it inside, Ed moves from under his hand, brings his legs under him and rolls on his back.

“Wanna see you,” he says quietly, not looking at Roy, spreads his legs again at either side of Roy and adjusts the pillow under his ass.

Roy’s breath catches in his throat and he moves himself up, bringing their bodies together and covers Ed’s mouth with his, swallowing Ed’s surprised gasp and his own moan at the feeling of their cocks brushing together. They kiss fiercely, Ed’s hands, one warm and one cold, moving along his back, hips rocking against each other. 

Roy plants heated kisses down Ed’s jaw to his neck and hears him mewl as he sucks his neck under his jaw, shoving his hand between their bodies and takes both of their cocks in his hand. He bites down at Ed’s collarbone as Es digs the fingernail of his left hand in the skin of Roy’s back.

“Fuck… Holy shit, Roy…”

Roy gives their cocks in his hand a couple of strokes and, trying not to lose himself completely, he looks up at Ed.

“How do you want it, Ed?” he plants a light kiss on the corner of Ed’s half open lips. “Do you want me to get you off like that?” he bites Ed’s lower lip and shuts his eyes, fighting for his composure as Ed moans. “Or do you want me inside you?” he finishes feeling Ed’s cock twitch in his hand.

“Oh fuck… I…” Ed squeezes his eyes shut and licks his lips. “Inside… Want you inside me.”

Roy moves to a sitting position between Ed’s legs, releasing their cocks, and presses one finger to Ed’s entrance. 

Ed opens his eyes locking them with Roy’s as the man pushes his finger inside Ed.

Ed gasps and reaches down to stroke his own cock lazily. Roy moves Ed’s hand aside, replacing it with his own and curls his finger inside Ed. 

Ed throws his head back and groans, and Roy is ready to sell his soul here and now only to have the privilege to pleasure Ed like that every day. 

“More”, Ed rasps. “Two.  _ Please _ .”

Roy adds a second finger to the first one and starts slowly moving them inside Ed, working him open. 

Ed is moaning, clenching bedsheets with his hands. The view of him, spread like that in his bed, long blond hair messy around his head, muscles tense, eyes shut, hard cock leaking with precum in Roy’s hand, the sounds of pleasure he is making at Roy’s touches, the feeling of him hot and tight around his fingers but at the same time relaxed and trustful - is  exhilarating and it’s  sending thrills along Roy’s nerves. 

Roy slowly removes his fingers from Ed and before the young man can start complaining on the absence, Roy pulls him closer, takes his own cock in his hand and lines himself up with Ed’s entrance. Ed’s eyes are half closed and his breaths are heavy, and he is looking at Roy through his dark eyelashes. 

Roy pushes himself slowly inside and he can’t help but close his eyes for a moment and let out a low groan. 

“Oh holy shit!” Ed almost screams in a husky voice throwing his head back and curving his back. 

He is hot and tight around Roy and as the man is fully buried in him, he stops, waiting for Ed to get used to him and relax. Ed’s legs are spread wide lying on Roy’s thighs, hands gripping the sheets, mouth half open, breathing hard.

“Ed?” Roy murmurs, caressing Ed’s thighs.

He feels the young man slowly relaxing around him, and as Ed opens his eyes again and nods, Roy starts moving slowly first, but soon increasing the rhythm.  

“F-fuck…” Ed releases the sheets only to wrap his hands around Roy’s forearms, squeezing hard, and starts making little moves with his hips meeting Roy’s thrusts.

Roy knows they both won’t last long at this point. Ed’s chest and neck are flushed, eyes half closed and unfocused, mouth agape, moaning a mixture of curse words and Roy’s name, and Roy lets himself dissolve in the pleasure. He starts thrusting harder, not holding himself back anymore. Ed’s cries become high-pitched, his body tenses, he howls throwing his head back, clenches hard around Roy’s cock and starts coming on his chest and stomach, jerking his hips in Roy’s hold, pulsing around Roy’s cock. And Roy hears himself growl as his own climax starts pooling low in his abdomen, and as Ed lets out a hoarse long moan and goes limp under him, Roy comes hard, spilling inside Ed, his vision almost fading to black for one brief moment.

They both are panting hard, drops of sweat running down Roy’s back. He waits for Ed’s next exhale to slide his softening cock out of his lover. He leans down on his elbows at the sides of Ed’s head, trying not to collapse with all his weight on the lithe body under him, pressing their chests together, hot skin to hot skin, and he can feel the sticking dampness of Ed’s cum between them and hard pounding of Ed’s heart against his own. He trails his fingers along Ed’s cheek, brushing damp with sweat blond bangs away from his face. Ed’s eyes are closed and he is smiling lazily. Roy plants soft loving kisses at the corner of Ed’s lips, at his closed eyelids, his nose, his temples. He nuzzles in the crook of Ed’s neck, breathing in the scent of him, feeling Ed’s hands - one warm and one cold - tracing lazy patterns on his back, and the words are burning on the tip of his tongue, and he is dying to give them voice, but now is not the time, and instead he presses himself to the warm body beneath him as close as he can without hurting him, and whispers in Ed’s neck:

“You are gorgeous, Ed”, and Ed’s breath is hot against his ear, Ed’s arms around him are holding him tightly, one hand moving up and Roy feels warm fingers running through his short hair on the back of his head, and he wants this moment to never end.

Having gathered his breath he slides to the side releasing Ed from the weight of his body and watches fascinated at the beautiful young man beside him who looks so ravishing in his afterglow.

“Will you stay?” he asks, meaning  _ “in this bed, tonight” _ but thinking  _ “with me, in this house, forever”. _

**~~~**

Ed is not here. He is somewhere else, where his body has no weight, where his chronic dull pain in the places where metal limbs meet the flesh doesn’t exist, where his head is bereft of any worrying thoughts. Where the man who just helped him to discover how to love someone more than you love yourself, is holding him in his arms and placing soft kisses on his face. Where he is not alone.

And he may have lied to Roy about doing that before, but it doesn’t really matter now. Even with the little experience he has Ed has always had a feeling, that it is more than simple hand- and blowjobs - it is about trusting someone entirely to let them this close, to allow them do this, to let them  _ see  _ him like that. And he knows too well the real price of human body and like hell he would let someone he barely knows do this to him.

But he trusts Roy, and trusting him with his body is just the little part of how deep it really goes.

The sex, his orgasm, the feeling of Roy coming inside him,  _ with  _ him, was nothing he had experienced before. And he wonders if it is just a mere newness of sensation and it would be the same no matter who he would have it with, or it was because it was Roy. 

But he never wants to check it. And the thought scares and excites him. 

He feels Roy shift to lay beside him.

“Will you stay?” he hears a soft question near his ear.

Ed turns his head, plants a kiss on Roy’s lips and breaths out a quiet “I will”, meaning  _ “with you, tonight” _ but thinking  _ “forever, if you let me” _ .

 

**FIN**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, that was a lovely ride, thank you all who was with me during this 6 chapters =) One more (the final) oneshot is planned for this series, but I am not sure when I am going to write it. But subscribe in my profile (or to the series, if there is such an option, I dunno) if you don't wanna miss it.
> 
> Btw, this was my very first attempt to write porn ever (that horrible filthy Otayuri smut you can see in my works was long after and a mistake xD).
> 
> Your comments give me life as always! ^_^

**Author's Note:**

> Please, drop me a line in the comments to let me know what you think, it will make my day! ^_^
> 
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> 
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> 
> `````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````
> 
> Series structure:  
>  **Part 1. _Beneath the stains of time._**  
>  _Roy is visited by future!Ed who tells him that everything will go to shit and asks Roy to not let that happen._  
>  Set 2 years after the Promised day.
> 
>  **Part 2. _On broken wings I'm falling._**  
>  Direct sequel to Part 1.
> 
>  **Part 3. _For you are no longer alone (or "The Lamest Marriage Proposal In The History Of Amestris" Award goes to...)_**  
>  _Ed finds the ring._  
>  Set 4 years after. (Oneshot, fluff)
> 
>  **Part 4. _Lest we forget_**  
>  The main piece.  
> Takes place 13-16 years after parts 1 and 2 (1930-1933 yy.)  
>   
>  **Part 5. _and in the end, as the darkness takes me_**  
>  Oneshot standalone angst from future!Edward's POV. Character's death. Memory loss, brain trauma.  
> Just a quick view in the inside of Edward's damaged mind of his last couple of months.


End file.
